Survival of the Fellowship
by rogue planet 13
Summary: Alternate sequel to LOTR. The fellowship has failed and Sauron has taken over Middle Earth. Understandably, the first targets for his revenge are the little creeps who tried to destroy his precious. All canon characters. Absolutely no OCs whatsoever.
1. Mordor's Most Wanted

**Note: I don't know how this is going to go, as I have no definite plans as to plot. It's just that Middle Earth under the lordship of Sauron is such a fun world to play in. If I keep having ideas I may keep writing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Middle Earth or anything in it. Lord Sauron does. Used without permission.**

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**Chapter 1: Mordor's Most Wanted**

**WANTED FOR SUBVERSIVE ACTIVITIES**

Rebel band of eight members. Self-styled the Nine Walkers (there used to be nine of them). Highly odious to the Dark Lord. Apprehend on sight.

Their crimes include: owning the Ring of Power; attempting to destroy said Ring of Power; forming a fellowship for the purposes of accomplishing said destruction of said Ring of Power; killing orcs of the Red Eye and of our ally, the White Hand; trespassing on Mount Doom; slaying endangered balrogs; attempting to conceal information from the Dark Lord; attempting to mislead the Dark Lord as to their true intentions; fraternising with elves; offering incivilities to agents of the Dark Lord and his ally; entering Mordor without passing through security; using the Ring of Power; using the Ring of Power for petty purposes, such as turning themselves invisible, thus aiding their passage into Mordor without passing through security; laying unfounded claims to the throne of Gondor; accepting bribes from an enemy of the Dark Lord, namely the self-styled Lady of Lothlorien; attempting to subvert the Dark Lord's ally; falsifying their own deaths; using weapons of mass destruction (known as ents); causing annoyance to the Dark Lord through the singing and composing of annoying songs; forming alliances with enemies of the Dark Lord; lighting unauthorised fires; injuring the Dark Lord's pet giant spider; attacking and murdering without provocation an unarmed ambassador under flag of truce (which is against the rules no matter whose book you go by).

Their subversive activities may include but are not limited to: attempting to steal and then destroy the Ring of Power; attempting to undermine the Dark Lord and his rule; writing hefty tomes of subversive literature; lighting fires in unauthorised places; attempting to subvert law-abiding subjects; spreading illicit slander against the Dark Lord and his agents; attempting to slay orcs; stirring up ill-feeling against the Dark Lord and his policies; defacing public property with subversive slogans and images.

Description:

Gandalf (alias Mithrandir and others): Wizard; 6' 3"; white beard and hair (was grey), grey-blue eyes, long mishapen nose, bushy eyebrows; deep voice, British accent; carries long staff (beware, staff confirmed very dangerous) and sword, wears tall, pointed hat; often seen riding white horse;

Aragorn (alias Strider, Elessar, Estel, possibly others): Human; 6' 2"; long, dirty brown hair, short brown beard, blue eyes; rough voice (sounds like speaker suffers from laryngitis), American accent; armed with sword; wears strange elven pendant; modus operandum consists of leaving the rest of the fellowship (or Middle Earth) to an unhappy fate and then sneaking back when not expected to deliver surprise attack.

Legolas: Elf; 5' 11"; long, blond hair, blue eyes, prominent brow, hollow cheeks; English Manchester accent; armed with bow, long knives, sharp ears and eyes; prefers to wear green; when apprehending, do not attempt to use tranquilisers—elves are relatively unaffected by such drugs, which generally cause no more sensation than tingling of the fingers.

Gimli: Dwarf; 4' 1"; reddish hair and beard, bulbous nose but not much to be seen of his face otherwise; accent unspecified; armed with axe, possibly other weapons (dwarves commonly carry concealed weapons); preferred method of attack is being hurled bodily at enemies while swinging axe.

Frodo Baggins: Hobbit; 3' 4"; dark, curly hair, extremely blue eyes, sometimes mistaken for a girl; high voice, English accent (assumed); armed with elven blade and elven vial, also wears mithril coat; this impudent upstart personally attempted to destroy the Ring of Power after carting it about Mordor under the Dark Lord's very nose; a very high reward will be given for his capture; apprehending him is important because having owned the Ring of Power for a time, the little slime ball will be driven to get it back again.

Samwise Gamgee (alias Sam): Hobbit; 3' 5"; light, curly hair, fat; English rural accent (also assumed); armed with Numenorean blade; almost always found in company with Frodo (see above), often lights fires to cook over which betrays his whereabouts; not clever—outwitting him won't pose much of a problem.

Merriadoc Brandybuck (alias Merry): Hobbit; 3' 8"; light, curly hair, jaw out of joint; English gutter accent (possibly assumed); armed with dagger, can sometimes summon ents or Rohirrim; almost always found in company with Pippin (see below); reacts unfavourably to orc draught.

Peregrin Took (alias Pippin or Pip): Hobbit; 3' 7"; brown, curly hair; Scottish accent; armed with dagger, can also summon ents; has habbit of dropping things so friends can track him, very clumsy—often drops things down wells, easily interrogated because he cannot hold his tongue and gives everything away; use caution when apprehending—suspect is known to have a strong fan base: any violence done to suspect will make you extremely unpopular.

Anyone caught conversing, fraternising, or otherwise having contact (not for purposes of apprehension) with the above stated suspects will be immediately incarcerated by the State. Anyone caught aiding them will face definite incarceration and possible torture and/or death.

All suspects are extremely dangerous. Do not attempt to speak to suspects: you may be compromised. Do not attempt to engage suspects in battle: you will probably lose. All suspects to be brought to Barad-dur upon capture. No exceptions. A suitable reward will be determined by the Dark Lord to be disbursed to the captor. All suspects wanted alive if possible; if impossible to apprehend them alive, the Dark Lord will accept their persons dead for a slightly lower sum.

Any information on suspects, their activities, or contacts please refer to: The Witch King, Minas Morgul, Gondor.

This notice written under the orders of

LORD SAURON, Dark Lord, Forger of the One Ring of Power, Maia, Necromancer, Lord of Werewolves, lieutenant of Morgoth, officiating high priest at temple to Melkor in Numenor, Ruler of Ringwraiths.

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**(Heights updated.)**


	2. Policy

**Note: Yay! My favourite chapter so far! (Actually, I only have two chapters so far...oh well.) **PeregrinTook1390 **(I hope you decided to keep reading this), yes, Pippin is the smallest to begin with, but he and Merry drink Ent draught and get to be two of the tallest hobbits since old Bullroarer Took. I can't remember how tall they were exactly, although I think it said in the movie (I don't watch the movie often enough). In fact, I had to guess the height of every fellowship member because the only one with his height listed on LOTR wiki was Aragorn...it said he was 6'6"(!) and I'm seriously doubting the reliability of their information.**

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**Chapter 2: Policy**

Lord Sauron paced the flagstones of his tower. (Being a villain, pacing flagstones came naturally to him.) Now that he had recovered his Ring of Power he had reassumed his natural shape as a tall dark Lord in armour, which was much more comfortable than being an eye stuck up on top of a tower. Being an eye had been rather useful, however. He had at least been able to watch events, while now he could only pace about in his tower, frowning at the floor and waiting for his minions to let him know what was going on.

Sauron spun around as the door opened and his lieutenant, the Witch King of Angmar, entered.

"Where is it?"

"I couldn't find it," said the Witch King.

"What? Did you search her?"

"Of course," said the Witch King.

"What about her luggage?"

"I searched that, too—all five suitcases and three shoulder bags…plus a purse. The purse took the longest."

"And you didn't find it?"

"No. I found a lot of jewellery. I even found her wedding ring, if you want that."

"I don't want jewellery."

"But you're so fond of it!"

The Witch King quickly wiped the silly smile from his face as Sauron shot him a black look. The master was obviously not in a joking mood.

"She must have it!" said Sauron. "She wouldn't have left it behind." He mused for a moment. "Some say that she can turn it invisible."

"Maybe so, but that wouldn't have helped her much since I can't see anyway," said the Witch King.

The Mouth emerged from a cubicle in the corner. He had been relegated to a desk job ever since the embarrassing debacle at the Black Gate and now he was anxious to reinstate himself in Sauron's good graces.

"She could be made to talk," he said hopefully. "Shall I go up and interrogate her, my lord?"

"What's the good of that?" said Sauron. "I gave her a good grilling when I first brought her here. She wouldn't answer any of my questions and she completely creeped me out. No, I'll just have to search her stuff myself. I can't depend on anyone else."

"You probably won't find it, either," said the Witch King. "Just look how long it took you to find your own Ring."

"That wasn't my fault!" stormed Sauron. "I would have found it much sooner if I had only had some decent help. I'm surrounded by incapacity. Yes, you and your nazgul got my Ring back for me, but only after I had already found it. And where was it? Inside Mount Doom—about to be destroyed. And then the lot of you were so excited about getting it back that you let the little creep who stole it slip through your fingers—not for the first time, either, I may add."

"Well, if you recall, _I_ wasn't there," said the Witch King. "I was dead. And I could protest about having had to die so many times when an ordinary mortal usually only dies once."

"That was your fault," said Sauron. "You were supposed to be invincible. You were this amazing person who was going to lead my army to triumph and glory and what happened? You got stabbed by a woman and a halfling. A fine sort of ending!"

The Mouth snickered.

"And you," said Sauron, turning on him, "got your head hacked off by a scruffy ranger!"

The Mouth's bright smile disappeared.

"I wouldn't have bothered bringing the two of you back to life, if I'd been able to get anyone better," Sauron went on.

"Well, why didn't you bring Saruman back to life, then?" asked the Witch King.

"I thought about it, but by the time I got my Ring back he'd already been dead for awhile. Besides, he tried to double-cross me and I couldn't trust him anymore. It doesn't matter. He was a bungler too. You're all bunglers. Isn't there anyone around here who can get things done besides me?"

There was a tentative cough from behind him. Lord Sauron (he was in the habit of spinning, having been a round object for so long) spun around. Lord Celeborn stood in the doorway.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he said.

"Who let you out of your cell?" demanded Lord Sauron.

"He did," said Celeborn, pointing to the Witch King.

"What!" said the Witch King.

"At least, he unobservantly allowed me to steal the key long enough to make an impression from which I created a duplicate." Lord Celeborn held up a key between his thumb and forefinger.

"How dare you!" cried Sauron, turning on the Witch King. "Take him back to his cell at once!"

"But your lordship," protested Celeborn, "I was not going to escape. I only wanted to speak to you about something."

Lord Sauron, though he didn't like elves, did have a sense of curiosity. "What about?" he asked.

"About Lady Galadriel. She protests the search and seizure of her property."

"But I didn't take anything," said the Witch King.

"Search and meditated seizure," Celeborn amended. "And she would also like the temperature on her cell thermostat lowered."

"You may tell your lady from me," said Sauron, "that until I find that ring of hers, her life is only going to get unpleasanter."

"But your lordship, she is already undergoing considerable trauma, having been dragged unwillingly from her home and then having all her beloved Mallyrn trees chopped down. She was so fond of those. Consider, your lordship, what she must be going through."

"Why didn't she complain when I spoke to her earlier?" asked Sauron.

"She tried to, your lordship. She attempted to communicate telepathically, but apparently you are not receptive to telecommunication."

"She's ready to talk now, is she?"

"No, she'd rather not see you at present. She says the sight of you disturbs her." Lord Celeborn said this with an apologetic bow.

"I will disturb her a great deal more before I've finished," said Sauron. He strode towards the doorway but stopped as he reached it because Lord Celeborn was still blocking it.

"I would not consider such action advisable, my lord," said Celeborn.

"Why not?"

"I greatly fear such a step would anger the opposition."

Lord Sauron appeared to smoulder inside his armour. "What opposition? I've cleaned up all resistance in Middle Earth."

"Well, there is still the fellowship, you know. Gandalf and Gimli are both strong supporters of Lady Galadriel."

"They are defunct."

"At present, yes. But it would be wise not to anger them. After all, you want them running for their lives, not starting a revolution. As long as they're simply afraid of you, they won't do anything, but if you make them angry, they might."

"What could they possibly do?" demanded Sauron.

"Well, Gandalf controls the wizards' vote—a very powerful sect, you know—and Gimli could rouse the dwarves, and they're so nice and peaceful just now. You wouldn't want to be fighting a war on two fronts while you're still trying to deal with Harad, now would you?"

"Why should you care?" asked the Witch King. "Where do you come into this?"

Celeborn looked modest. "I am only her ladyship's spokesman," he said. "Whatever you choose to do, my position can hardly be affected. But if my advice can be of any use to you, you're welcome to it."

"I don't need your advice," said Sauron. "Your attempts at intimidating me are useless. I have the Ring of Power, don't I? No one can stand against me."

"True, my lord," said Celeborn. "But remember that Gandalf is one of the Istari. When he lived in Valinor he was a Maia. If he were able to return to Valinor—yes, I know you closed down the Grey Havens, but just supposing he were able to find a boat somewhere—he might convince the Valar to interpose on Middle Earth's behalf again. You remember what they did to Beleriand when they went to war against Morgoth."

Sauron looked slightly disturbed.

"…And what they did to Numenor when the Numenoreans tried to enter Valinor. You wouldn't want them doing something like that to your nice, new kingdom, would you?"

"What do you suggest, then?" asked Sauron.

"That for the time being you humour her ladyship," said Celeborn. "Keep her in a good mood and wait for her to let down her guard."

"But she's a prisoner! How am I supposed to keep her in a good mood?"

"Oh, she will be very happy here, I'm sure," said Celeborn. "She was remarking only this morning how much she likes stone floors. Why not give her something to do? It would take her mind off being a prisoner and she dearly loves to be busy."

"Give her something to do?" said Sauron.

"Well, why not make her your secretary? She wouldn't have any difficulties learning Black Speech, I'm sure—she's very talented with languages. And her handwriting is beautiful."

Sauron considered for a moment.

"And she would brighten up your office considerably, too," added Celeborn, glancing around the room.

"That's not a bad idea," said Sauron.

"It would improve your public relations immensely," said Celeborn.

"Yes," said Sauron. "And I'm in need of a charismatic blonde for a receptionist, too. The Mouth turns a lot of people off."

"Oh, she'd love that job," said Celeborn. "She's such a people person."

"Actually," said Sauron, "I was referring to you."


	3. A Dire Predicament

**Note: Thanks for the reviews, everybody! Short chapter this time. It's mainly to show what "normal" life is like under Sauron's regime, and a chance to stick in some fun Nazi/Commi stuff. I promise the next chapter will actually be about the fellowship!**

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**Chapter 3: A Dire Predicament**

Erestor sat at his desk, gazing rather blankly at the opposite wall. His office had escaped the general devastation of the war and though small, was able to keep up a cheery appearance. It was located in the better section of Rivendell. The white runes printed on the glass door read: Erestor, Counselling and Therapy.

The door swung open, ringing a little bell above it, and an elf entered.

"Hello, Lindir," said Erestor, trying to sound cheerful. "How can I help you?" He was guessing from Lindir's harrassed expression that the elf had come for counselling and not counsel. Erestor offered both services, but of late most of his customers had been in need of the former.

Lindir collapsed into a chair in front of the desk. "Have you heard the news?" he asked.

"Probably not," said Erestor. "I haven't had much time to go online—I've had too many patients."

Erestor glanced out the window at an orc who was painting the word "elf" on the glass in large white letters. Lots of elves were needing counselling these days.

"I heard about Glorfindel being taken to the camps, if that's what you mean," Erestor went on. "It's a terrible calamity, but I tried to warn him."

"So you haven't heard?" said Lindir, a trifle repetitiously. "About Arwen?"

For some reason the name gave Erestor a sense of foreboding. Not that there was anything very frightening about Arwen—he had taught her her runes when she was a little elfling—but because there was something in the back of his mind that associated her with problems.

It began to dawn on him as Lindir continued his explanation.

"Lord Elrond was stressing out yesterday about Aragorn being in hiding and unable to take her off his hands, and the Grey Havens being shut down so she can't go to Valinor, and Lothlorien being laid waste so she can't stay with her grandmother anymore, and so…"

"You mean she's back in circulation?" asked Erestor, appalled.

"That's what he was getting at," said Lindir. He looked up at Erestor with his usual expression of bewildered anxiety—rather as if he was permanently expecting a blow from above. "What are we going to do?"

"No need to panic yet," said Erestor. "After all, Aragorn's still _alive_, and as long as he is, she won't agree to marry anyone else."

"Aragorn can't come out of hiding, and Arwen is getting desperate as well as Lord Elrond—she's just not as willing to admit it."

"Does Glorfindel know?" asked Erestor.

"Of course. Why else do you think he let them take him to the camps? He hates her even more than we do."

"I do not hate Arwen," said Erestor cautiously. "I simply find her company to be a bit overpowering in immoderation. She is really a very nice girl and if I were a younger elf…" He considered for a moment and ammended this. "—A younger elf who was fond of excitement—and was contemplating marriage…"

He gave Lindir a significant look. Lindir sank further into confusion.

"I'm—I'm not young. I'm over seven hundred years old."

"Which is why you should get married before you get any older."

"But I don't like excitement. I had a desk job during the war."

"You need more excitement in your life," said Erestor. "And you get along so well with her father."

Lindir's expression was somewhere beyond harrassment. "Then there would be _two_ of them," he croaked.

"Lindir," said Erestor, leaning back in his chair, "you are the obvious choice. She was practically engaged to you until Aragorn showed up. We were all expecting wedding announcements."

Hoping for them, actually. It was wishful thinking.

"No!" said Lindir. "No, no, no. I never proposed!"

"Lord Elrond proposed for you."

Erestor fondly recalled the numerous counselling fees he had collected from Lindir at this time.

"Why did you talk me out of committing suicide?" said Lindir.

"The answer is obvious, isn't it? I was next on her list."

"Why meeeee?" Lindir wailed.

"Well, don't forget that we had a golden opportunity of getting rid of her and it slipped through our fingers."

Lindir put his face into his hands. "It wasn't my fault," he said. "I tried as hard as anyone else to get her to go to Valinor."

"We all did," said Erestor. "It was my idea in the first place, remember? And Glorfindel laid aside their usual enmity and offered her the use of his horse—even personally escorted her himself. But Lord Elrond put you in charge of making sure that she got there."

"I tried," said Lindir. "I really did. How was I supposed to know that she would have one of her creepy visions and go tearing off back to Rivendell? I almost went on to Valinor myself rather than face Lord Elrond."

"Well, the problem is now yours to solve."

"I can't," said Lindir desperately. "You know how often I'm in here as it is. Eighty years ago I was a happy, sane elven lieutenant. Now look at me."

Erestor looked at Lindir and began to feel a little pity. It was quite true: Lindir had grown much thinner, paler, and more girly-looking.

"I'm sorry, Lindir," said Erestor, "but what else can we do?"

"We could just go to the camps like Glorfindel," said Lindir.

"That would only be a temporary solution. Eventually every elf in Middle Earth will be in the camps—that means Arwen, too."

"Life is horrible," said Lindir putting his face in his hands again.

"There's only one other way out of it," said Erestor.

"What's that?" asked Lindir, grasping at this straw with pathetic eagerness.

"We'll have to bring Aragorn back."

"But that's impossible. Lord Sauron will never pardon him. And even if he does, Aragorn can never be king of Gondor and Arwen probably won't agree to marry him on any other terms."

"True," said Erestor. "The solution, however, is simple. We must make Aragorn defeat Sauron."

Lindir glanced around. "That's treason," he whispered.

"It's the only way out," said Erestor calmly.

"But we don't even know where Aragorn is hiding."

"Elrohir and Elladan can find him."

"They're in detention," said Lindir. "For assaulting an orc."

"Then _we_ must find him," said Erestor. "Otherwise, one of us will have to marry Arwen. We _must_ not fail."

Lindir's eyes grew rounder.

"Where shall we look?"


	4. In Hiding

**Note: Yippee! Angsty Pippin! I originally intended to write this chapter from Frodo's perspective, but Pippin turned out to be more fun. We'll have a look at Frodo's diary later, maybe. As always, thanks for reviewing!**

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**Chapter 4: In Hiding**

April 27, 3019

Dear Diary,

It's been more than a month since we've been in hiding. I ought to say more properly _running _and hiding. No sooner do we find a safe house then a bunch of orcs come along and we have to dodge again. My feet are killing me.

Right now we're staying with two cave trolls who were good-hearted enough (and dumb enough) to take us in. It's pretty close quarters and as usual I have to share a sleeping bag with Merry. I hate being small. Even worse, the cave trolls snore so loudly that it shakes the whole cave. I have to admit this is partly a good thing: previously we had problems trying to stay hidden because nearly every one of us snores really loudly with the exception of myself, Legolas, and Frodo (Merry says I snore, but I don't). Legolas talks in his sleep: a constant babble that is actually more annoying than snoring. Frodo makes no noise but sleep walks with a freaky look on his face. He's still trying to find his precious.

Merry and I held a snoring contest the other night to see which of the fellowship snores the loudest, and I put most of my money on Gandalf. Merry said Gimli. The contest wasn't much of a success because Merry fell asleep in the middle of it and snored the loudest of all.

It's so boring sitting in a cave all day with nothing to do that Merry and I have taken to holding all kinds of contests. Yesterday we had a contest to see who would argue the most times in one day. The teams were: Aragorn vs. Gandalf, Legolas vs. Gimli, and Sam vs. Frodo. At first Sam and Frodo were winning and they were the ones I had bet on, but then Merry started _cheating_ and got Aragorn and Gandalf fighting over the palantir. That was completely unfair, so I took Frodo's mithril shirt and hid it in Sam's sleeping bag. Frodo's really touchy about his stuff.

Then Merry started fighting with _me_ and Legolas and Gimli started getting on each other's backs about whether Fangorn Forest or the caverns of Helms Deep are cooler and then Merry and I realised that we had forgotten to count the two cave trolls in the contest and they were hitting each other over the head about something one of them had accidentally put in the stewpot.

Gandalf _somehow_ found out who was starting all the fights (I have my doubts about the ethical validity of that palantir) and he threatened to tie me and Merry up in a sleeping bag if we didn't behave. We thought the fun was over when who do you think showed up? Elrohir and Elladan, the sons of Elrond. They had beat up an orc and were wanted by the Mordor secret police (i.e. Nazgul), so they had come to hide out with us. Merry and I made bets on who could get them fighting the fastest and I so totally won.

The trouble with doing anything even slightly questionable is that Gandalf always blames _me_. Just because I'm the youngest. It's not fair: Merry should get blamed because he's older. Anyway, it isn't _always_ my idea.

So now we have twin elves staying with us in addition to the immature cave trolls, depressed hobbits, maladjusted human, autistic elf prince, groupy dwarf, and over-reacting wizard. The prolonged confinement is starting to affect our sanity adversely. Not only that, but the food is running out (not to mention the pipeweed has been gone for three days and all of us, excepting Legolas, are suffering excruciating withdrawal symptoms). I have no idea how much longer we can continue like this.


	5. Pastimes in a Cave

**Chapter 5: Pastimes in a Cave**

Varied memoranda from the unofficial conclave of the fellowship of the ring while in hiding in a cave belonging to friendly cave trolls.

(In other words, we got so bored we started writing down everything everyone said.)

Secretary: Merriadoc Brandybuck

Vice Secretary: Peregrin Took

Gimli: (_entering the room and slum__ping down into a corner_) This is a rotten cave. Nothing to the ones at Helms Deep. Nothing to the caverns of Moria. Nothing to Erebor...

Gandalf: It's better than the dungeons of Barad-Dur.

Gimli: How do you know?

Legolas: (_jumping up in the corner and doing a theatrical sort of dance_) There's spiders in here.

Gimli: I thought you were used to spiders.

Legolas: (_sitting down again in a different corner_) I don't _like_ them.

Gandalf: _(suspiciously)_ What are you two up to over there?

Merry: Nothing.

Pippin: Minding our own business.

Gandalf: What is that you're writing?

Pippin: A play.

Gandalf: A play, indeed! I hope you don't intend to perform it for us.

Elrohir: _(to Elladan)_ Remember that dumb play Aragorn wrote about Turin and the dragon?

Aragorn: That was like seventy years ago! How do you still remember that?

Elrohir: I don't know. Seventy years isn't that long.

Elladan: I think we still have that play somewhere.

Elrohir: We should find it so we can show it to Arwen.

_Cave troll passes through the room on its way out the door._

Gimli: Where is he going?

Gandalf: To the village, to buy food.

Gimli: How do you know that's what he's going there for? Maybe he's going to tell them where we are. Maybe he was planning to do that all along.

Gandalf: Then why wouldn't he have done it sooner? Don't be paranoid. Things are bad enough without imagining them worse.

Sam: (_looking over Merry's shoulder_) That's no play. There's not a quoth or forsooth from beginning to end.

_Inserted by vice secretary_: mind thus thine own business quoth Pippin forsooth.

Merry: Give it back!

vice secretary: It's my turn.

Merry: Seriously, give it back. I had it first. Stop writing everything I say.

Aragorn: What? You're writing what we say?

Sam: Every blessed word.

Pippin: Stop looking!

_Long silence as everyone in room tries to remember everything they said for the last five minutes._

Aragorn: Where's Gandalf?

Legolas: I think he went to take a bath.

Gandalf: _(entering room while waving staff and yelling)_ Merriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took! What have you been doing to the bathtub?

Merry: No!

Pippin: Don't touch it!

Gandalf: If those cave trolls kick us out of here it will be your fault! What madness drove you to fill the bathtub with dirt?

Merry: It was an experiment.

Pippin: We were trying to grow pipeweed.

Aragorn: _(looking eager) _Did it work?

Pippin: No.

Sam: You can't grow plants in a cave. There's not enough light.

Merry: I know, we can borrow Frodo's phial of Galadriel.

Frodo: _(coming out of a sort of coma) _No! It's mine.

Gimli: Not so loud, all of you. Someone might hear us.

Gandalf: _(grumbling in an undertone) _No food, no pipeweed, and no bath.

Elladan: Remember the time Aragorn was showing off for Arwen and he fell into the hot tub?

Aragorn: Don't you guys have anything better to do than relate embarrassing moments from my past?

Elladan: _(after a pause)_ Nothing comes to mind.

Legolas: _(suddenly freaking out and trying to pull his hair out)_ I'm having withdrawal symptoms!

Gimli: But you don't smoke.

Legolas: _(pausing and then freaking out again) _I'm having orc-slashing withdrawal symptoms.

Aragorn: Me too.

Elladan: Maybe we could slip out just for a few -

Gandalf: Certainly not. Far too dangerous.

Elrohir: But we'll all go insane, cooped up in here!

Sam: Nobody invited _you_.

Gimli: And in any case, stop making so much noise.

_(Long and bored silence)_

Gimli: That cave troll ought to be back by now. It's been long enough.

_(Loud and ominous knock on door, like knock of doom)_

_(Total silence in room for about two minutes)_

Pippin: _(in stage whisper) _Who is it?

Gandalf: _(also in whisper)_ Hold your tongue, fool of a Took!

Merry: Pippin! How many times have I told you not to answer if someone knocks! It might be the nazgul._  
_

Pippin: _(loud whisper)_ We're not home!

_(Door opens)_

Gimli: Who forgot to lock the door?

_(Erestor and Lindir enter)_

Elladan: What are you doing here?

Erestor: What are _you _doing here? I thought you were in detention.

Elrohir: We escaped.

Gimli: How did you find us?

Erestor: We got in touch with the underground.

Elrohir: So why did you come here?

Lindir: We're in hiding.

Gandalf: You've chosen a poor place to hide. We could be discovered at any time.

Erestor: We're not hiding from the nazgul. We're hiding from Arwen.

Aragorn: Arwen?

Erestor: Your father is trying to make us marry her.

Aragorn: But _I'm _going to marry her!

Lindir: Then you'd better hurry up.

Erestor: He's getting desperate.

Aragorn: Don't be silly. How can I marry her when I'm hiding in a cave?

Erestor: Why are you hiding in a cave anyway? These look like pretty third-rate accommodations.

Elrohir: Do you think we _want _to be here?

Sam: _(in an aside) _Well, you didn't have to come.

Aragorn: Do you have any better suggestions?

Lindir: We have a plan.

Aragorn: What plan?

Erestor: Listen, Estel...I mean Aragorn. You remember the story of Beren and Luthien?

Lindir: - Your ancestors, weren't they?

Erestor: How they stole the silmaril from Mor - er, you know - that guy?

Aragorn: Yes?

Erestor: And another of your ancestors, Isildur - how he cut off...someone's...finger?

Aragorn: Well?

Erestor: These people can be defeated!

Aragorn: What are you saying? You want me to go chop off Sauron's finger?

Lindir: Yes.

Erestor: It can't be too much harder than stealing a silmaril.

Aragorn: That's insane! I admit desperate times call for desperate measures, but what you're talking about is suicide!

Erestor: Just think about it, Aragorn. Promise me you'll at least think about it.

Lindir: After all, if you get killed Arwen can go to the Halls of Mandos and beg for you to be resurrected.

Erestor: And that would be really romantic.

Lindir: And we would write songs about it.

Gandalf: They're right, you know, Aragorn. We can't hide for ever - sooner or later they're going to find us. Best to strike now while we still can.

Aragorn: Look. I tried. I did everything in my power - I even went through the paths of the dead. Remember the final stand outside the Black Gate? Can't ask for more heroism than that, can you? And still we were defeated. It would be no different a second time.

Sam: It wasn't Mr. Frodo's fault._  
_

Gandalf: We're not blaming anyone, but this time we'll do it all together. We should never have split up last time.

Aragorn: Together or alone it's impossible!

Legolas: I agree.

Aragorn: Thank you, Legolas.

Legolas: And besides, there's another option.

Gimli: What's that?

Legolas: Not all of Mirkwood was overrun. Far to the north a small resistance force still fights on, led by my father.

Erestor: But they're just a bunch of commies!

Gandalf: You think we could fight Sauron with such a puny force? Our only hope is a surprise attack right at the heart of Mordor. ...Besides, I don't trust your father. He'd take the ring for himself.

Merry: I have an idea.

Elrohir: What?

Merry: We could go back to Moria and get the Balrog to help us.

Gandalf: Fool of a Brandybuck! What a stupid idea!

Sam: Gandalf killed the Balrog.

Merry: Oh, yeah.

Gandalf: Stop changing the subject! The point is, we need to go to Mordor and destroy the ring.

Elrohir: Orc slashing!

Aragorn: No, we need a plan of attack - one that will work.

Legolas: We should go to Mirkwood.

Gimli: Why not just stay here?

_(Cave troll enters with enormous sack over shoulder)_

Pippin, Merry, and Sam: Did you get anything to eat?

Aragorn: Did you check the P.O. box?

Cave troll: Yes. Here's the mail.

Gandalf: All that just since yesterday?

Cave troll: _(dumping huge sack on the floor so that letters spill in all directions) _This was all I could carry.

Gimli: It's probably all for you, Legolas.

Legolas: Don't feel bad. You can read half of them.

Elrohir: Half of them are probably for Aragorn.

Gandalf: There's probably quite a few for Frodo as well. Better wake up, Frodo.

Pippin: _(sorting letters into piles and appropriating the largest pile)_ Oh, look. I got the most.

Merry: No fair!

(Note-taking here interrupted. To be resumed at a later date.)


	6. Fan Mail

**Notes: Battle of the fans!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Fan Mail**

_Dear Pippin,_

_I am your biggest fan! I don't think you're stupid! I love how you knocked the skeleton down the well and made tons of noise and let all the orcs know you were in Moria. Coolest part in the movie! (In the first movie.)_

_Sincerely, a fan_

_Dear Aragorn,_

_I am nineteen years old and have brown hair and blue eyes. I love swordfighting and I just got a new bow for my birthday and already can hit a beetle at two hundred yards with my eyes shut. I have also learned the skills of tracking, signalling, and living in the wild. I prefer to wear elven robes, but I don't mind dressing like a warrior when the occasion calls for it. I have included my photograph and phone number. Please write me back soon! (Or call me!)_

_Sincerely, Ranger!Sue_

_Dear Pippin,_

_You're my favourite hobbit after Bilbo. No, wait, no, yeah, you're my favourite hobbit and Bilbo's next, actually. I've liked you ever since I was like five years old and I think your scottish accent is really cool._

_Sincerely, a fan_

_Dear Legolas,_

_We are holding a conference this month on how to kill mumakil and we'd like you to be the main speaker. Please let us know if this will work out for you. We will pay._

_Sincerely, the Gondorian Guardsmens' Guild_

_Dear Aragorn,_

_I love how you fell off a cliff and survived. Your scars looked so cool. I wish I could fight wargs with my bare hands like that. I was not among the orcs at the Black Gate who destroyed your army. I didn't want to fight for Sauron but he made me. I'm tired of fighting for him and want to fight for you if you decide to raise an army._

_Sincerely, an uruk admirer_

_Dear Legolas,_

_You're so handsome and cool. I love how you skateboarded down the stairs on a shield at Helms Deep. You saved us all!_

_Sincerely, a maiden from Rohan_

_Dear Aragorn,_

_I am locked fast in Sauron's tower and am not allowed to get news, but I hope you are still alive and are devising means of rescuing me. I am waiting patiently, but it is horrible here. Please come soon._

_Sincerely, Galadriel_

_Dear Pippin,_

_You're my favourite hobbit. Can we be friends? I like to read. I like _The Lord of the Rings _and _The Magic Treehouse _series._

_Sincerely, a fan_

_Dear Aragorn,_

_I am interested in purchasing your palantir. If you ever consider selling it, please contact me at once._

_Sincerely, The Witch King of Angmar_

_Dear Legolas,_

_Come home at once. No excuses._

_Love, Dad_

_Dear Pippin,_

_My little sister has a crush on you and asked me to write this letter for her. She drew the picture herself._

_Sincerely, the brother of a fan_

_Dear Aragorn,_

_Can I have your autograph? Please send it to the return address on this envelope._

_Sincerely, a fan_

_Dear Legolas,_

_We would like to purchase the rights to your image for use in advertisements for our new line of TangleFreeTM hair care products. Please call us at your convenience so we can discuss details and payment. Thank you._

_Sincerely, HairStuff Inc. TM_

_Dear Pippin,_

_Yeah, I totally agree with you about the beacon lighting. I mean, that was _dangerous_. Way cooler than what Merry went through. I'm sending my favourite recipe for stuffed mushrooms. Hope you like it! Write back soon._

_Sincerely, a fan_

_Dear Legolas,_

_Sauron has taken me prisoner and is keeping me locked in his tower. Please come to rescue me at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely, Galadriel_

_Dear Aragorn,_

_You creep have you seen my sister?_

_Sincerely, Eomer_

_Dear Legolas,_

_I think you should have been the one to kill Smaug __in _The Hobbit_. It would have been so much cooler. And by the way, why were you so much fatter then than you are now? Don't worry, I still think you're cute._

_Sincerely, a fan_

_Dear Pippin,_

_Next time Gandalf calls you names, call him "fool of a wizard!" I'll bet he won't like that. Anyway, I'm sending the T-shirt for you to sign. It's got a white tree on it, so I can look like you when I wear it._

_Sincerely, a fan_


	7. Gimli's Discovery

**Notes: **2MFriedmanFreak: **They each got the same amount. That was completely unintentional, though. (I had to go back and count to find out.)**

* * *

**Content Advisory: Warning. This chapter rated T for drug references.**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Gimli's Discovery**

Pippin, with a stack of paper his own height, sat down in the middle of his letters and began writing replies to every single one.

"Aren't you going to open yours, Frodo?" asked Gandalf.

Frodo sat up and listlessly picked up a letter.

"Who is it from?" asked Sam.

"Probably a tenth walker," said Merry, who hadn't gotten very many letters and had already opened them all.

"Here, I'll read it for you," said Sam, seeing Frodo was still staring at the letter without attempting to open it.

"Look, Gimli," said Legolas. "There's a letter for you, too."

"For me?" Gimli took the letter and stared at it, as if he could hardly believe it was there. "I didn't know I had any fans."

"Open it," said Merry.

Gimli tore open the envelope as carefully as if it had been a custom gift-wrapped birthday present.

_Dear Gimli,_

_I am locked in Sauron's tower. Please come and rescue me._

_Sincerely, Galadriel_

"Oh, you got one too," said Legolas.

"Locked?" said Gimli, staring at the letter. "Locked in Sauron's tower? No!"

"You didn't know about that?" asked Elladan. "She's been a prisoner since they took out Lothlorien."

"I must save her!" said Gimli.

"Have fun," said Aragorn.

Gimli, unheeding, ran to get his axe.

"So you see," said Gandalf. "She's expecting to be rescued. You'll have to follow my plan now."

"You didn't have a plan," said Aragorn. "I still say it's impossible."

"There'll be no living with Gimli if you don't rescue her," said Gandalf. "And if we stay shut up together here for much longer, we'll all go insane."

* * *

Gimli sat by the fire that night, sulking to himself, while the rest of the inmates of the cave heartlessly ate dinner as hungrily as if Lady Galadriel wasn't a prisoner of Sauron. Gimli was not hungry: he had spent the afternoon imagining all the gruesome tortures Galadriel might be undergoing and, his imagination being aided by memories of orc horror movies he had seen (Gimli was fond of orc horror movies), he had completely lost his appetite.

Why wouldn't anyone do anything? That jerk Aragorn! And even Legolas - his best friend, Legolas - wanted to go to Mirkwood instead of saving her! Who would want to go to Mirkwood anyway?!

Gimli looked up and noticed that Legolas was not eating dinner either. He sat on the opposite side of the campfire, gazing abstractedly into the flames and gnawing his nails.

"Why won't you go save Lady Galadriel?" asked Gimli. As Gimli had asked that same question almost without pause the whole afternoon, Legolas was the only member of the fellowship left who didn't whop him when he asked it.

"Aragorn says it's impossible," said Legolas.

"Remember the time you killed an oliphaunt single-handed?" said Gimli. "And that time we killed like a million orcs at Rauros? And like twenty million in Moria, plus a cave troll? It's not impossible."

"Well," said Legolas, "_I _can't go, anyway. My dad told me to come home."

"Legolas," said Gimli. "Be serious. You don't want to go back to Mirkwood. The whole reason you came on that ill-fated quest to destroy the ring was to get away from Mirkwood, and your dad."

"Yes, but..." said Legolas. He apparently couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Why aren't you eating?" asked Aragorn, coming up just then.

"I'm not hungry," said Gimli.

"Me either," said Legolas.

Aragorn sat down with a half empty plate. "Did you run out of pain meds?" he asked Legolas in a low voice.

Legolas covered his face with his hands. "Yes," he said. "And anti-depressants, too."

Gimli's mouth dropped open. "I didn't know you were on meds," he said.

"Is that why you're so skinny?" asked Sam.

"Is that why you're so anxious to go back to Mirkwood?" asked Aragorn astutely.

"All right for you to talk," said Legolas. "You take pain killers, too."

"Athelas," said Aragorn. "That's over the counter stuff, dude. That's completely different."

"I can't help it," said Legolas, despondently. "That orc in Esgaroth really messed me up. I've had to take stuff for the pain ever since. And as for the anti-depressants, well, you just don't know what it was like growing up with dad. And I lost my girlfriend, too."

"Yeah, well I've probably been through at least as much trauma as you," said Aragorn.

"Have not," said Legolas.

"Have too."

"Giant spiders, man?"

"Well, what about the time I got bitten by a mad warg?"

"So it's pills that make you so zoned out all the time," said Lindir. "I thought it was because you were autistic."

"I'm not autistic," said Legolas.

"Cheater!" roared Gimli.

Legolas looked shocked.

"That's why you won the drinking contest!" Gimli shouted. "No wonder it didn't affect you. Do you have any idea what kind of headache I had the next day?"

"Well, it was your silly idea in the first place," said Legolas.

"Some friend!" said Gimli.

"Get over it," said Merry, chucking a turnip at him.

There was a long silence in the cave after that. Finally Sam said, "Do you think if _I_ took pain killers -"

"No," said Legolas quickly.

"I have it!" said Gimli, very suddenly and very loudly.

"Have what?" said Elladan.

"I've heard of people breaking addictions through hypnotism," said Gimli. "Legolas should try it."

"Who's going to hypnotise him?" asked Gandalf.

"Lady Galadriel. She does hypnosis, doesn't she?"

"I think it's telepathy."

"Close enough," said Gimli. "Legolas will be cured. We'll all be heroes. All we have to do is save her."

"Simple enough," said Aragorn drily.

"But if I get off the meds," Legolas protested, "I'll have the pain and depression."

"Maybe she can cure that, too," said Gimli.

"See what I told you?" said Gandalf to Aragorn. "He won't stop until you give in."

Aragorn stood up. "All right," he said. "After this, we'll all probably be on morphine, but apparently there's no alternative." He belted on Narsil and threw on a ragged cloak.

"Yippee!" said Gimli, grabbing his axe.

"If we're going to storm Mordor, we'll need an army," said Aragorn. "I'm going to the paths of the dead."

"But the dead already helped you and went to the Halls of Mandos," said Pippin. "They aren't in limbo anymore."

"I know," said Aragorn, "but maybe they weren't all there when we went through last time. Maybe some of them were off golfing or something."

"Bowling," said Gimli. "With skulls."

"No, it's called bocce," said Legolas.

"Anyway," said Aragorn, "there may be a few of them left. Every little bit helps, you know. I'm putting you in charge, Gandalf. Meet me at the crossroads in Ithilien in about a week's time."

"Where are you going?" asked Frodo, eight conversations behind as usual. Nobody paid any attention to him.

"We're going to be heroes!" said Gimli, leaping about and brandishing his axe. He was apparently addressing Legolas, but each individual thought he was personally addressing him.

"Orc slashing!" said Elrohir, dumping all of Elladan's belongings on the floor while searching for his sword.

"Maybe we'll find some mushrooms," said Sam hopefully, packing up his cooking pots.

"Pipeweed!" said Pippin, Merry, and Gandalf.

"Send us your address so we can forward your letters," said a cave troll.

"And anything you might leave behind by accident," added the other cave troll.

The company frolicked out the door of the cave and into the open air, singing one of Lindir's old hits. The cave trolls waved to them until they disappeared.

"It's so quiet," remarked one troll.

"I guess it's okay to take the dirt out of the bathtub now," said the other.


	8. In the Camps

****Notes:**** Onesizefitsall **and** Zane's Girlfriend**, I don't know what kind of pain Legolas is in. Technically, Aragorn was more injured in the movie, but Legolas got a few facial wounds. This is more of a spoof off of fanfics that like to put Aragorn and Legolas in lots of pain.**

Lily Lindsey-Aubery**, they don't want to save Galadriel, couldn't you tell? :P (But Sauron might be wanting them to by now.)**

**Random FYI: Oops,** I guess the trolls were OCs. I'll have to work them in again later and give them canon status.****

* * *

**Content Advisory: Warning. This chapter rated T for mild action violence and some menace. (Not really, but I like content advisories.)**

* * *

**Chapter 8: In the Camps**

Glorfindel awoke in a general atmosphere that verged on complete darkness. The only ray of light was a jaundiced beam that probed half-heartedly through a tiny grilled window about twenty feet up in one of the four stone walls. Its light did not catch a single dust mote or passing insect; only a vapour of lifeless particles that seemed to hang permanently in motionless limbo.

He moved and groaned; then, finding he was not fettered, he slid tentatively forward to see how far the limits of his cell extended. His foot touched a pool of questionable liquid that had puddled up around the drain in the middle of the floor and he drew back quickly, scraping his shoe on the flagstones in an unsuccessful effort to sanitise it.

Moving more cautiously, he stretched his arms out on either side, feeling for the walls. His fingers came in contact with them at about arm's length on either side, making him feel a sudden surge of claustrophobia. He tilted his head back and tried to locate the ceiling, but the blank black space above him was as impenetrable as a portal into infinity. Were it not for the window, he would have felt as if he were in well, and at least a hundred feet underground.

All this effort was to some purpose of course; namely the dark and devious enterprise of escape. So far there seemed at least three possible exits: the window, the door (he supposed there was one somewhere), and the drain. Glorfindel stood up and, closing his eyes and turning his face towards the light, breathed deeply to combat the sick feeling every elf experiences when trapped in a small space.

"_You'll be all right,_" he told himself. "_I'll get you out of here somehow. Now think. Think. Think. Think. What's the best way to proceed?_"*

He could not concentrate, however, because of the nagging thought that kept popping into his head: "_Was Arwen really as bad as _this_?_"

There was a jingling and then a loud clanging somewhere in the wall to his right and he heard a metal door slam against the wall. Someone stood in the open doorway shaking a large ring of keys.

"Come on, you slug," said an orcish voice. "Move out of there."

"But I've scarcely been here long at all," said Glorfindel, who had hoped to at least make a more thorough survey of the cell before being moved to a possibly more impregnable one.

"No cheek. Get out here, or you'll wish you had."

Glorfindel followed his jailer down the stone passage and out into the semi-obscurity of a Mordor noon. The sky had a permanent yellow cast and the air felt heavy and sticky. Glorfindel hoped nervously that the dirty suspension would not adhere to his hair. They walked about a mile and a half down a dusty, rock-strewn road until they reached a high chain link fence, topped by razor wire and bedizened with high-voltage warnings.

"What, anover one?"

Glorfindel glanced austerely at the gatekeeper who was surveying him in a bored manner.

"All right, get inside, Goldilocks," said the orc, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

He stepped obediently through the spiked iron gate and into a scene of utter horribleness. As far as the eye could see stretched rows of huts, obviously thrown together hastily and without even the most primitive of amenities (running water, heating, and glass in the windows to name a few). A long line of elves, men, and dwarves, with an occasional hobbit, all chained together, filed out through a gate in one wall.

A small snaga orc stood nearby, watching him curiously.

"You're new, ain't you?" he asked.

"Where are they taking them?" asked Glorfindel.

"To the mines, to mine ore for his overlordship. That's the second shift leaving."

"Poor wretches."

The orc scratched his ear and cocked his head on one side. "They're not so bad off," he said. "The mines ain't so bad as the smelting furnaces. Now those are beastly. You don't want to get sent there, mate."

"How do you keep from being sent there?" asked Glorfindel.

"Well, what did you get sent here for?"

"Escaping."

"You ought to have stayed put. If you misbehave in the labour camps, you get sent here to the correction camps, and if you misbehave here, you get sent on to the deaf camps. _No one _misbehaves there."

Glorfindel followed the small orc's gaze out towards the great, black mountain in the centre of the Mordorian plain from which the greater part of the thick atmosphere seemed to originate.

"Is _that _where the furnaces are?" he asked in horror.

"Naow. _That's _where they send the bodies."

Glorfindel tried to speak but found that the atmosphere had affected his throat adversely.

"Come on, I'll show you to your billets," said the orc.

He showed Glorfindel to one of the huts, which proved to be filled with bunk beds without blankets or mattresses, and no other furniture at all. After Glorfindel had deposited his very meagre bundle on one of the beds they went to the kitchens where lunch was being served. An enormous uruk was dishing food out of one of the huge soup pots.

"What is it?" asked Glorfindel suspiciously, looking at the thick, dark matter in his bowl. One never knew with Mordor food exactly what one was getting.

"If you don't like it you can go wivout, shrimp," said the uruk.

"I'm Glorfindel of Rivendell," said Glorfindel with dignity. He was not used to being called names. Everyone had always taken him seriously.

"Rivendell?" said the uruk. He seemed to be trying to remember the name. "Rivendell? Oh, I know. It's that shoddy joint up in the Misty Mountains, isn't it?"

"It's not shoddy."

"Oh, I fought it was the one what was run by the half-breed quack they call Elrond."

"Don't call Lord Elrond names. He's one of the foremost physicians of Middle Earth."

"Has he ever cured you?" asked the uruk, hitting Glorfindel over the head with the spoon.

"Touch me again and I'll stick that spoon down your throat, scarface," said Glorfindel.

"What? You called me _scarface_?" roared the orc, flinging his weapon on the ground with such force that it made a small crater. "Take off your shirt, elf scum!"

Glorfindel was genuinely shocked. "Take off my shirt?" he said. "How vulgar!"

The orc had already taken off his own breastplate, revealing a chest that resembled a muscle suit. Glorfindel took a step back. The orc was about twice his own size and had extremely well-defined abdominal muscles, while the only thing well-defined about Glorfindel's chest was his rib cage.

"You called me _scarface_!" repeated the uruk unnecessarily. He swung his fist at Glorfindel, who ducked.

"Enough!" shouted Glorfindel, growing angry. "I am a vanya, you dull creature. You are all of you beneath me, and I will not be bullied -"

He was interrupted by another swing from the uruk, which he dodged with less success.

"Ugluk's at it again!" shouted a snaga and a crowd of orcs immediately collected around the combatants, all shouting insults and encouragements. Several of the more enterprising began taking bets, with as much as ten to one against Glorfindel.

Ugluk made another swipe, but howled as Glorfindel blocked the blow.

"Nine block," said Glorfindel smugly. "I've studied Taekwondo."

"Well _I _know knockdown Karate," said Ugluk, bringing his right foot into contact with Glorfindel's shoulder with lethal force.

Glorfindel staggered back, but as Ugluk lunged at him he caught the uruk by the wrist and flipped him in a stunning 360 degree spin, bringing him down on his back.

"Judo," he said.

"Ju-jitsu," said Ugluk, grabbing Glorfindel's leg and twisting it from under him.

Glorfindel landed on his face and Ugluk leaped to his feet.

"That was fairly impressive," said Glorfindel, as Ugluk rushed at him. "But I'll bet you don't know Savate."

He threw one leg up and caught Ugluk square in the ribs, flinging him backwards. Ugluk executed a graceful cartwheel and landed on his feet, grinning.

"_You_ probably don't know Capoeira," he said.

The two opponents faced each other, breathing hard and perspiring.

"We'll never be done wiv vis," said Ugluk, mopping his forehead. "We're too evenly matched. I'll have to finish it the proper way."

He snatched a sword from a nearby orc and swung at Glorfindel. Glorfindel ducked and, sweeping up the stew pot, flung it at Ugluk's head with elven accuracy.

Ugluk fell to the ground unconscious and all the orcs who had bet on Glorfindel cheered.

"Ha," said Glorfindel. "I ought to have told you I've slain a balrog."

Just then a nazgul appeared. "What's this?" he demanded in a rasping voice. "Fighting amongst prisoners?"

"He started it," said Glorfindel.

"Yeh," said another orc, who foresaw money to be made off of Glorfindel as the camp's new prizefight champion. " 'E was only complainin' about the food."

The nazgul glowered. "You're the one who was sent here this morning, weren't you? Troublemaker! The master wants to see you."

"What will he do to me?" asked Glorfindel, as he was marched towards the gate.

"Send you to the death camps, probably," the nazgul replied.

* * *

_* Yes, Glorfindel is schizophrenic. It comes of having multiple lifetimes, I suppose. Anyway, he got used to talking to himself in the Halls of Mandos where he didn't have anyone else to talk to._


	9. His Evil Overlordship

**Notes: **Lily Lindsey-Aubery: **Yes, Avengers pops in wherever it gets a chance, doesn't it? Best script _ever_!** Zane's Girlfriend: **The death camps are horrible. There actually were labour camps in Mordor in the book, but it didn't talk about them much, unfortunately. **2MFriedmanFreak:** I have no idea how to pronounce Capoeira...It's a Brazilian martial art. Don't dislike Ugluk! He's going to be in it more and he's going to be a good guy...I think. It's hard to plan this story in advance...**

**And now for the Darth Vader theme song: Duh duh duh duhduhduhhhhh...**

* * *

**Chapter 9: His Evil Overlordship**

Beregond fidgeted in his seat. He was not at all happy to be sitting in the waiting room at Barad-dur in the first place (who would be?) and the prolonged and unexplained wait was making him even more nervous than he had been to begin with. He had of course not come of his own volition. He had received a summons the day before and although he had no idea why the Great Eye (it was no longer a great eye, but everyone still called it that; old habits died hard) desired to meet with an insignificant Captain of Gondor, he had not thought it wise to dispute the point.

He had been waiting nearly an hour. The former Lord Celeborn, wearing thick-rimmed glasses and sporting what Sauron considered a flashy bowtie (black with neon skulls), looked up apologetically from his station behind the reception desk.

"I can't understand what's keeping his lordship so long," he said. "The committee was only going to discuss the proposed plan for compensation for balrogs. I shouldn't think that would take long, considering Gandalf killed off the only one left a few months ago."

He shook his head and turned back to the paperwork he was trying to make sense of. The outer door burst open with a resounding crash that startled Beregond into emitting a stifled shriek, and Eomer, previously the King of Rohan for about ten days, entered with his blond hair streaming behind him.

"Where's Sauron?" he demanded. "I want to see Sauron."

"Well, let me see," said Celeborn, opening his day planner, "he has an opening on Monday afternoon at three thirty."

"No, I want to see him now," said Eomer, striding over to the elevator.

"But your former majesty," protested Celeborn, leaping to his feet and hurrying after him, "his lordship is in committee just now. You absolutely cannot intrude."

With some difficulty he managed to get Eomer away from the elevator and into one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

"When will he be out?" asked Eomer, flopping into the chair and picking up a magazine with a picture of an orc on the cover and beneath it printed "The Man of the Future."

"I hope quite soon," said Celeborn.

"He'd better be."

Eomer flipped through the magazine for several minutes, then tossed it aside and looked around futilely for a television set. Sauron's waiting room was of a boring and comfortless cast, without so much as a coffee maker in sight.

"That's a cool pencil," Eomer remarked when his boredom grew too intense.

Celeborn looked down at the pencil he was writing with. It was hot pink and read "Life Is Better Blonde" in sparkly letters.

"Oh," said Celeborn. "This belongs to my wife. I don't know how it can have gotten on my desk." He paused and then added unnecessarily, "Of course it isn't mine, because I'm not blond."

"You aren't?" said Eomer.

"You coloured your hair?" said Beregond.

"It's not blond. It's silver."

Both men took a moment to critically examine Celeborn's hair.

"It looks blond to me," said Eomer.

The door of the elevator banged open just then and Sauron stepped out, followed by his two chief minions and Lady Galadriel, who was taking notes.

"...save for the stipulation that all responsible parties..." Sauron was saying.

"You villain!" shrieked Eomer, leaping from his chair and cutting into the monologue.

"Me?" said Sauron, nonplussed.

"No, him." Eomer pointed an accusing finger at the Witch King. "I _thought_ you were hiding him here! Do not attempt to shield him from my wrath."

"What did I do?" asked the Witch King.

"Where's my sister?" demanded Eomer.

"Your sister? That feisty tomboy? I don't know and I don't want to."

"That's a lie! She's been missing for weeks and you were the last person to be seen with her."

"And at that time she stuck her sword between my eye sockets. Let me tell you, that ended our relationship."

"You've got her here, haven't you? I'm not leaving until I've found her."

"She's not here," said the Witch King, giving an involuntary shiver at the possibility.

"I'll find out for myself!" said Eomer, leaping past them into the elevator. The door closed behind him and the light beside it began to climb towards the top level indicator.

"Do not follow him," said Sauron, as if someone had offered to. "He won't find anything. Aha! You."

Beregond shifted uncomfortably as he saw Sauron's visor turned towards him.

"I had forgotten I had sent for you," said Sauron. "I have a job offer."

Beregond drew a breath of relief before it occurred to him that working for Sauron might not be the pleasantest experience.

"You're probably aware of what happened to the last steward of Gondor," Sauron began. "His end was unfortunate. I was planning to use him after the war was over. And now that his son has disappeared with a band of misled satellites and the rightful king of Gondor is a wanted criminal, I have no one left to put in charge. That's why I sent for you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you'll be the new steward of Gondor. Don't worry, it won't be very hard. You will need to make sure the country runs smoothly and make all the boring everyday decisions, but anything really important you will refer to me. You can take as many holidays as you like - sit on the king's throne - whatever you feel like doing."

"Thank you," said Beregond, unsure of what else to say.

"I will, of course, be keeping my eye on you," said Sauron. "Here." He handed Beregond a palantir. "That's for you."

Beregond had run out of things to say. As he was fumbling over an acceptable thank you the outer door burst open again and two orcs entered, leading an unwilling Glorfindel who was garlanded with several very large chains.

"What's this?" said Sauron.

"The elf who was causing trouble in camp 189."

"Where's the nazgul I sent?"

"I don't know," said one of the orcs. "He handed him over to us and said he had other business to attend to."

"I didn't send him any orders," protested the Witch King. "Where is that useless creep? Come to mention it, where are all eight of them? Goofing off, are they?"

He set off to find them. Sauron turned to Glorfindel.

"I wanted to talk to you because someone said you'd come back from the dead. That means you went to Valinor, right?"

"Well," said Glorfindel, "the Halls of Mandos... It's sort of different..."

"Close enough. I want to know what the Valar are up to over there. They aren't hatching any plots to depose me, are they?"

"I don't know." said Glorfindel. "You see, I haven't been there since the first age."

"Well, she wasn't up there," said Eomer, stepping out of the elevator. "You'd better tell me where she is."

"I don't know where she is," said Sauron. "But if I see her I'll let you know." He turned back to Glorfindel. "If you truly don't know anything, then you're of no further use to me. Take him to the death camps."

"But...I..." began Glorfindel.

"That's uncivilised!" said Celeborn.

"How dare you sentence an innocent elf to such a dreadful place!" exclaimed Lady Galadriel. "I will not permit it."

"Shut up!" said Sauron. "I'll do what I like in my own tower. Take him away, I say!"

The orcs moved to obey, but the door was blocked by two odd figures.

The first one wore holey bell-bottomed jeans and a tie-dyed t-shirt, while the second sported a headband and orange- and brown-striped corduroy trousers. They both had long, yellow hair by which they might be distinguished as elves, although the amount of dirt adhering to them rendered this diagnosis questionable.

Everyone was at first too surprised to say anything.

"Whoooaaaaa," said one of the elves.

"Rumil, Orophin, is that you?" said Lady Galadriel.

"Yeah, man," said Rumil, the elder of the two brothers. "We were looking for you."

"Then - " said Lady Galadriel hopefully, "you've come to rescue me?"

Sauron assumed a fierce expression.

"No," said Orophin. "We just wanted to tell you... We like totally saved two of your trees."

"What are you dressed like that for?" said Celeborn indignantly. "That sort of attire was never permitted in Lothlorien."

"Oh, now Celby, I think it's cute," said Galadriel. "And you saved some of my Mellyrn? How sweet of you."

"Yeah, like a ton of orcs came and started chopping them all down, so we like totally saved them..."

"You're the crackpots who chained yourselves to trees?" said Sauron. "I told my minions to bring you in over a week ago." The Witch King being nowhere in sight, he glared menacingly at the innocent Mouth.

"Do you mean to say," said Glorfindel, who had still not been led away, "that instead of coming up to Rivendell to help us repulse the invaders, you sat about saving silly _trees_?"

"Is that what you were doing while they were dragging us away to this hole?" said Celeborn drily.

"Oh, it's wonderful," said Galadriel. "At least there are still two left. I must go see them. You'll give me the day off of course, won't you, Sauron dear?"

"Not until he's told me where my sister is!" said Eomer. "Do you think I'm going back to Rohan without her? No more stalling."

"My dear, the trip would be far too dangerous," said Celeborn. "Your lordship, don't let her go."

Glorfindel was still shouting at Rumil and Orophin. "Weren't you aware that the whole rest of Middle Earth was fighting a WAR? How could you just sit there chained to trees?"

"We were protesting the war!" said Orophin. "The whole reason we're in this mess and all the trees got cut down was because of the war. We came up here to tell him to stop the senseless killing."

"I'll of course insist on paid leave," said Galadriel, "because it's for community service."

"Peace out, man!" said Rumil.

"Help!" cried Sauron, clutching his helmet. "I'm surrounded by too many blondes! Someone get them out of here!"

"I'll go," said Beregond, making for the door.

"No!" said Sauron. "No one leaves without my permission."

"But you just said..."

"You're all going to the death camps!"

"Except for me," said Celeborn. "Because I'm not blond."

"You can't get along without your secretary," said Galadriel firmly. "I don't know if you're aware of it, but your spelling is atrocious."

"Whatever," said Sauron. "Guritz, call up a dozen more orcs and escort these four nutcases to the nearest death camp. - And make sure they die soon," he added.

The summoned orcs arrived and took away Glorfindel, Eomer, Rumil, and Orophin, who were apparently the most unnecessary of Sauron's blond retinue.

"Ah, peace," murmured Sauron when they had gone. He noticed Beregond edging towards the door.

"You go back to Minas Tirith and do your job," said Sauron. "And don't forget your palantir."

"Yes, your lordship."

Clutching his palantir, Beregond fled the dark tower.

* * *

****Mwahaha **I love making Sauron suffer! Sorry Galadriel is so ooc.**

**Stay tuned for more of Beregond and his precious palantir...**

**Sauron thinks bow ties are cool.**


	10. And Strolling

****Sorry it took so long to get the next chapter out. I've been fighting remorseless writers block for about a month now. This one is not very long, but hopefully the next installment will be coming soon.****

**Thanks for all the amazing reviews! **Zane's Girlfriend**: Thank you! Yes, I agree, and that's one of my favourite parts of the book. **Lily Lindsey-Aubery**: Glorfindel will appear again soon...I hope. **Furionknight**: Thanks; sorry I've kept you waiting so long for another chapter. :P **OneSizeFitsAll**: I'm glad you think Rumil and Orophin are crazy - they _are _crazy! **AnitaHoward**: Thank you, and your avatar is the best! **2MFriedmanFreak**: Umm, didn't think about that. They probably would. Oops. **RyderThorne**: Thanks! I'm always accepting suggestions :) Feel free to PM me anytime.**

**Acknowledgements: Thanks to the handy English to text widget on Lingo2word .com for the text speak. You can also use it for translating the texts below back to English if you need to.**

* * *

****Chapter 10: ...And Strolling!****

_Gimli and Legolas's text messages while on their way through Rohan:_

From Gimli's android: I still can't bleev you nevr told me about ur health issues. I mean, I thot we were bffs. Friends are sposed to tell each other about their problems.

From Legolas's iphone: I didn't no thats what f? did. I've nevr had any f? until u and aragorn came along. Xcpt 4 Tauriel and she dumped me.

Gimli: uv probs.

Legolas: ok, tell me bout ur problems then.

Gimli: My biggest issue? Evry1 thinx I'm cute and silly.

Legolas: ur not cute.

Gimli: I'm not silly either. I'm gonna change my img.

Legolas: How?

Gimli: By saving Galadriel and proving I'm amazn!

Gimli (30 secs later): R u there?

Legolas: I'm jst checkin facebk.

Legolas: Oh hw cute. Pippin posted a manga pic of me he drew himself.

Legolas: y? do I have pencils sticking out of my head?

Gimli: Frodos sleep walking again.

Legolas: He can't be asleep. He keeps posting rndm stuf about the ring.

Gimli: Haha he jst walkd into a tree.

Legolas: sdkfjk

Legolas: sorry. wasn't payin attntion and dfjdklsssss

Gimli: ok maybe hes not sleepwalking cuz ur doing the same thing now.

Legolas: sorry. I was txting.

Legolas: Tell me what its like bein a dwarf.

Gimli: We're a persecuted minority.

Legolas: really?

Gimli: yes. ppl always discriminate against us.

Gimli: in the frst place, they have it in the history books that we're a lab accident. The dumb vala wasnt suppsed to make us.

Gimli: Want proof we're discriminated against? I'm the only dwarf in this movie!

Legolas: This is crzy. Wanna know how many meters Pippin got in Temple Run?

Gimli: Ur not payin attntion!

From Merry's Nokia Lumia: Pippin wants 2 knw if u have Ny granola bars?

Gimli: No

Legolas: What does DUH stand 4?

Gimli: DUH?

Legolas: Ppl keep commenting that on my facebk posts.

From Pippin's Samsung Galaxy: Got Ny mushrooms?

Gimli to Gandalf: This lks like a mine field. R we almost 2 Edoras?

From Gandalf's tracfone: why are you texting me im less than six feet away

Gimli: U told us not 2 talk.

* * *

Gandalf looked up from his phone in annoyance. "All right, you can all talk now," he said. "But don't make too much noise."

"Yay!" said Gimli. "Typing is so much trouble." He put his phone up to his face and spoke into it. "Let's have another drinking contest while we're here."

Legolas checked his text, then tapped the screen and spoke to his phone. "I'll win again."

"No cheating this time!"

"I didn't cheat!"

"I said don't make too much noise!" said Gandalf. "Never mind, no more talking."

Silence once more descended for several seconds. Then Gandalf's phone started making noises like lots of texts coming in. He flipped it open and read the messages.

Sam: can we eat now

Lindir: My feet r killng me

Erestor: We shld get bak undr cover or Arwen might see us

Elladan: Elrohir's whispering

Frodo: Where r we going again?

Legolas: Gimli pushd me

Legolas: I need 2 call my dad

Gimli: Nazguuuuuuul!

* * *

**More soon!**

**If you know what the title is taken from, you waste too much time watching random Youtube videos (like myself).**


	11. Party Line on the Palantir

OneSizeFitsAll**: Sorry I diverged a bit from what we discussed in our planning symposium - I was in a hurry to get it published. The title is from the LOTR honest trailer (so you don't waste your time with dumb YouTube videos? Really?). **Lily Lindsey-Aubery**: Yes, text speak is weird. Try out Lingo2Word - it's rather interesting. **Rousdower**: Hmm, commies...yes. Well, no spoilers... As for Loki's line - well, I'm a bit of a kleptomaniac when it comes to movie lines. :P **Zane's Girlfriend**: Thanks! XD** FurionKnight**: Here you go!**

**Oh, yes... Sorry this chapter is extremely random.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Party Line on the Palantir**

"It still doesn't look done."

Celeborn poked the eleventh toothpick into the coffeecake, but it came out as goo-coated as the first one.

"Maybe the temperature isn't high enough," he said.

"The recipe says three hundred and fifty degrees," said Aarlok. He and his cousin Mornok had been relieved from service in the orc army and were filling in as cooks in Barad-Dur.

"Farenheit, right?" said Celeborn. "Maybe it's a European oven and it's set to Celsius."

"It won't cook because you keep opening the door," said Elrond.

Elrond had been brought to Barad-Dur not long ago to act as on-site medical personnel and health inspector. There being little need for his services in either capacity, Sauron had relegated him to janitorial duties. The former elven lord was taking a break from mopping floors to help Celeborn and the orcs in the kitchen - "help" in his usual manner, which was to sit by and offer advice.

"I hope it finishes cooking in time," said Celeborn, shutting the door. "Are the eggs done yet?"

"Looks like they were done a long time ago," said Mornok, surveying a collection of dark lumps in the bottom of the frying pan.

"Oh dear. I forgot about them," said Celeborn. "I didn't realise that eggs cooked that fast. Well, we will have to cook some more. Where's the bacon?"

"It's still frozen," said Aarlok, his upper portions inverted into the chest freezer that stood in one corner and his short orc legs waving about in the air.

"We can put it in the microwave to defrost it. I hope we can get it cooked before she awakens."

He glanced anxiously at the clock.

"It won't fit in the microwave," Aarlok announced.

"I'll cut some off," said Celeborn, picking up a knife.

He tried to separate the strips of bacon, but found that he could not insert the knife between the frozen layers. He glanced at the clock again and started sawing on one end of the icy chunk.

"You're mangling it," said Elrond who had grown hungry and begun to snack on the brown sugar.

"I can't get it to come apart!" said Celeborn, sawing desperately. "Here, you have a try," he said, pushing it towards Aarlok. "Orcs are good at that sort of thing."

Aarlok turned the frozen block over and over, prodding it violently with the knife, but without effect.

"You only have to get a piece off small enough to fit in the microwave," said Celeborn, rubbing his frost-bitten and greasy hands together.

" 'Ere, let me ave a go at it," said Mornok.

* * *

Up at the top of his tower Sauron took the cloth cover off of his palantir and sat down in front of it. In its murky depths he could indistinctly see the throne room of Minas Tirith and Beregond's anxious face.

"Hello," said Sauron.

"H-hello."

"Nothing to report?"

"Not today, your lordship."

"I sent a work detail from our labour camps to assist in rebuilding the damaged portions of the city. Has it arrived yet?"

"Yes. It arrived this morning," said Beregond, referring to a sticky note he had posted on the throne.

"Have you talked to them?"

"No."

Sauron shifted uncomfortably. "There may be some trouble-makers in the lot," he said. "I just wanted to get them out of Mordor."

"Oh," said Beregond, evidently wondering what he was supposed to say next. Sauron could hear the door at the further end of the hall clang open and shut again and someone in dirty black clothes strode up to the table.

"How are you, Beregond?" said a scratchy voice. "Can I borrow your palantir?"

"Who's that?" asked Sauron. "Don't let him use the palantir. It's for your personal use only."

Horrified, he started back as Aragorn's face suddenly appeared large and distorted in the palantir.

"Hello, Sauron," said Aragorn. "Nice to see you again. I've got a little surprise for you."

"What is it?" said Sauron suspiciously.

"You'll see soon enough. But you won't like it. You were looking for me, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, here I am. Come and get me." With that, Aragorn proceeded to make provoking faces in the palantir while Beregond made furtive attempts to pull him away. The door at the end of the room clanged again and someone else's voice intruded into the conversation.

"Is Sauron on the line? Let me talk to him!"

"No!" said Sauron. "Not him again!"

Eomer pushed Aragorn aside and supplied his own face.

"Don't think I'll leave you alone until you tell me where my sister is!" said Eomer.

"Get off the palantir and get to work!" said Sauron. "That's what I sent you there for."

"I'm tired," said Eomer. "I had to walk all the way here. And why should we have to repair this dump anyway? _We_ didn't break it down. _You _did."

"Do as I say or you'll repent it," said Sauron. He would have come up with a better threat but he was distracted at the moment by a strange smell trickling into his room. "Don't go anywhere, Beregond," he said. "I'll be right back."

* * *

Sauron pushed open the green beize door of the kitchen and stopped suddenly. Aarlok was jumping up and down on a ten-pound block of bacon, emitting orcish war cries and brandishing a large butcher knife. As Sauron opened the door, the weapon flew from Aarlok's greasy hands, described a dazzling arc through the smoky air, and rebounded with a deafening clang from the visor of Sauron's helmet.

"What's going on?" asked Sauron, when he had recovered from the assassination attempt. "Why are you throwing knives about? And what's all the smoke I'm smelling? Are you trying to burn down my tower?"

"Don't worry," said Celeborn quickly. "It's stone, so it won't catch on fire. We were just cooking breakfast."

"Is that what's smouldering in my oven?" asked Sauron.

Celeborn spun around and jerked the oven door open. A lot of smoke billowed out.

"By the Valar! It finished cooking the minute I turned my back on it," said Celeborn. "It did it on purpose, too."

"It was too sugary anyway," said Elrond.

"What are you trying to do?!" demanded Sauron.

"I'm making Lady Galadriel breakfast," said Celeborn. "Don't you know what day it is?"

"No. I don't keep track of anniversaries."

"It's not an anniversary. It's Mothers Day. I don't suppose you've called your mother yet this morning?"

"I haven't got a mother," said Sauron. "Is she going to take the day off? Because I don't have a backup secretary."

"Have you done anything for the other women in your life?" demanded Celeborn.

Sauron brought his thoughts back from contemplating a list of possible stand-in secretaries with difficulty. "I don't have any women in my life," he said. He turned to Elrond. "Get back to work!"

"I mopped the hall," said Elrond icily.

"But you haven't dusted my study yet. Do it at once, or..."

"Or what?"

"Or..." Sauron lowered his voice menacingly. "...Or you know what."

The colour slowly drained out of Elrond's face and he got up and went out.

"Something smells good," said the Witch King, poking his head through the door as Elrond went out. "Is breakfast ready?"

"There you are; I need you," said Sauron. "Aragorn is at Minas Tirith. Go arrest him and bring him here."

"I would be happy to," said the Witch King. "Unfortunately my fell beast is missing. I haven't been able to find it for the last three days."

"Can't you borrow one from the other Nazgul?"

"That's the problem," said the Witch King apologetically. "I can't find them either."

* * *

**I meant to get this published last week, but forgot. :P**

**I'm doing NaNoWriMo this month so it might be a bit before the next chapter.**


	12. Attack of the Nazgul

**Notes: Yay, more of Pippin's diary! Oddly, I find his diary entries the easiest chapters to write. It's also kind of therapeutic, for whatever reason. Anyway, thanks for reviews, and here's some replies: **

NewtandZaneFanGirl**: You changed your name! Actually, no the nazgul are still around. (In zombie voice): "_We're coming!_"** OneSizeFitsAll**: Yes, Barad-Dur is the best! It would be cool to do a tv series called _Barad-Dur_; kind of like _Downton Abbey_, or something. **Rousdower**: Eomer is fun. He's a little bit like he was in the movie... maybe a little bit... In a different fanfic I tried to make Sauron like Benedict Cumberbatch. I wish he was played by him in LOTR. **Lily Lindsey-Aubery**: *Shakes fist at Galadriel* Actually, she's not to blame in _this _instance.**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Attack of the Nazgul**

_Pippin's diary_:

I've got my notebook back at last.

Gandalf confiscated it because he didn't like me writing down incriminating things about everyone else. What else are we supposed to do to pass the time on a road trip? I ran out the battery on my phone hours ago and there's no reception to speak of in this part of Rohan anyway.

Gimli said he heard a nazgul scream and that kept Gandalf busy looking around for a few minutes so I was able to slip my notebook out of his pocket. I had to rip out several pages of phone numbers and grocery lists that he had written in it and also a page of very bad drawings that looked like Merry had drawn them, although I don't know how _he _got hold of this notebook.

Oh, well. I guess I'd better catch up on what's been happening to us. As I said, Gimli thought he heard a nazgul so everyone was really scared for a while. But Legolas had a look round and his elf eyes didn't see anything, so we all concluded that Gimli was just paranoid.

After twilight fell we started out across a bare and desolate flatland that looked like a bombsite but that someone said was a minefield and hadn't we better turn back. Gandalf said to keep going and Gimli said that it was suicide, what with the mines and the darkness and being out in the open with nowhere to hide if the nazgul attacked. Erestor said that it would be the death of the hobbits.

It's a funny thing about big people: they're always so worried about hobbits all the time. I mean, us hobbits are very hardy folk - we were the only type of life form that didn't have at least one of its representatives killed during the period now known as The Attempted Destruction of the Ring. This fact is so remarkable that the saying "the hobbit never dies" has now passed into general use. In spite of all this, whenever there is any danger about, instead of telling the truth and saying, "It's cold and freezing;" or, "I'm scared stiff; let's get out of here;" big people like to say instead, "This will be the death of the hobbits." Sometimes they tack on, "Not that I'm at all afraid of anything and actually welcome danger in its worst forms at any time, but I wouldn't want the hobbits to get hurt." I'm beginning to understand why they take us on their quests with them.

Anyway, to get back to the conversation about the minefield: Gandalf said that it was a very safe place to cross because if the nazgul did attack, they were more likely to hit a mine than we were (because the fell beasts they rode were so big) so that if there were still any mines there, (and Gandalf said he didn't think there really were) they were more of a protection for us than a danger. Nobody seemed to agree, but nobody had any better suggestions for another road to take, so on we went.

Eventually we arrived at Edoras, which is now basically a smoking ruin. Merry was very upset about this, but as far as I'm concerned, Edoras isn't anything to Minas Tirith and Minas Tirith is in much worse shape, which is much sadder. We had a fierce argument about it (we seem to have a fierce argument every time Rohan and Gondor are brought up in the same conversation - I don't know why; Merry is just touchy, that's all) and Gandalf had to hit Merry with his staff to make him be quiet and stop attracting the notice of any nazgul that might be lurking around. Gandalf hit me as well, which was completely unnecessary as I wasn't causing the commotion.

We finally reached the place Gandalf had been taking us to, very late at night - or rather early in the morning. Now, I must admit that Gandalf is rarely welcome wherever he goes, but none of us were prepared for the sort of reception we received at this place. First we fell into a moat that appeared to be filled with sharks, jellyfish, saltwater crocodiles, and who knows what else, and barely managed to climb out on the other side without being eaten. Then we encountered a chain link fence topped with razor wire. After climbing over that two of our company accidentally stepped in man traps, and finally we were beset by a lot of angry wargs.

We made it to the door of the house (reinforced steel with a combination lock and retina scanner) with the wargs on our heels and banged and shouted (there was some screaming involved, too) for what seemed a terribly long time before someone came and opened the door. We all tumbled inside breathless, drenched, bleeding, and extremely annoyed.

The owner of the bunker was Gamling, now one of the few Rohirrim left and so sort of in charge of Rohan by default. Gandalf had apparently thought it would be safer to take shelter at his house for the night, not realising that it was more dangerous getting into Gamling's house than it was taking one's chances outside it. Gamling showed us over his impressive defence system and explained that it was proof against marauding orc bands of any numbers. He did mention however that in spite of all his attempts it was not nazgul proof.

We had an early breakfast and settled down for a quiet rest after a traumatic night. I took the opportunity to write this entry and was just about to close up the notebook when suddenly we heard a knock at the door. Gamling is freaking out because nobody's even supposed to be able to get to his door and in fact we freaked him out when we did. Nobody wants to open the door, so we're all sitting here now feeling frightened and wondering what to do.

Suddenly there is a horrible noise that shatters all the glass in the room and then a sound like an explosion that I think is the door breaking down. All the lights have gone out and I can't see to wridfl sdie ofpos...

* * *

**Ok, that's probably _not_ what it looks like when you try to write in the dark, but I can't do slant writing on the computer. **

**And next time...**

**What will happen to Pippin and the rest of the Fellowship?**

**Who is attacking? (Duh, you already knew from the chapter title. :P)**

**Tune in again... next week!**


	13. How to Have Fun in a Death Camp

**Sorry it's been rather more than a week since the last installment. Also sorry to keep you in suspense about what happens to Pippin. I'll get to that in the next chapter, hopefully.**

**OneSizeFitsAll:** Sorry to make you wait. Here it is!  
**Rousdower: **Pippin thinks so, too. :D  
**Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: **Pippin's notebook is really easy to write for some reason. Also he is becoming my favourite hobbit, although he wasn't before. I think Billy Boyd singing The Last Goodbye is rapidly winning me over.  
**Wunderkind: **Thank you very much! And I'm glad you like the dark lord!

* * *

**Chapter 13: How to Have Fun in a Death Camp**

Glorfindel was in a death camp. And he was not having fun.

He'd only been there for two days so far. There was only one purpose for Sauron's death camps and that was to kill people. If there was any other purpose it was to get as much work out of them as possible before they died. Glorfindel was trying to move a rock many times larger and even many-er times heavier than himself, his muscles aching and perspiration pouring down his face. He may have once slain a balrog, but that was in the first age and he hadn't gotten any younger since.

"Get a move-on!" shouted his orc overseer.

Glorfindel wedged the rod he was using as a lever further under the rock and put all his weight on it. The rod promptly broke, dumping Glorfindel face first into the mire. He jumped up spouting words he didn't even know he had known. For the millionth time he wished he was safely back in Rivendell, teasing Erestor or playing immature practical jokes on Lindir.

"Cheer up, Goldilocks," said the orc. "Only two more hours and this shift is over."

"Shut up," said Glorfindel. "And don't call me 'Goldilocks.' "

He tried to clean the mud off of his face with his pocket handkerchief. With the aid of a nearby puddle he saw that he had not succeeded. In fact what he saw caused a tear to trickle down his cheek.

"What's the matter?" asked the orc. "What are you crying for?"

Glorfindel sat down, hugged his knees, and buried his face in them. "I hate it here," he sniffed. "Everything's horrible. I look terrible."

"Of course you do," said the orc. "You're an elf. All elves look terrible."

Glorfindel raised his mud be-smirched face from his now mud be-smirched knees and glared haughtily at the offending orc.

"Elves are the fairest of creatures," he said. He did not add that he happened to be the fairest of elves. He wanted to add it but with great modesty he refrained from doing so.

"What?" said the orc, incredulously. "No, they aren't. They're creepy."

"You're calling _us_ creepy?" said Glorfindel. "We're not the ones who are creepy. You are."

"Seriously, elves look like girls."

"Well, you look like - I don't know what. And no, we don't look like girls. - At least," said Glorfindel, thinking of Lindir, "_I _don't look like a girl."

"But _you_ are a girl."

"I am not a girl!"

The orc looked disgusted.

"Do you mean all this time I've been trying to make a dude stop crying?"

"Well, I don't...cry...very often. Only when I'm undergoing extreme emotional trauma. In fact, I don't think I've cried since the fall of Gondolin."

Glorfindel hastily tried to dry his eyes with his muddy handkerchief, with horrific effect.

"And in that instance," Glorfindel continued with dignity, "I was killed by a balrog."

The orc looked unconvinced by this disclosure.

"I came back to life," Glorfindel explained hastily.

"You're crazy," said the orc. "Which makes you even creepier."

"I'm not creepy!" said Glorfindel in exasperation. "If you think I'm creepy, you should see Erestor."

"So there's elves even creepier than you?" The orc looked interested. "That's cool."

He accosted another orc who happened to be passing by. "Hey, check this out. This one is a dude."

"Really?" said the other orc in amazement.

"And he thinks he was killed by a balrog."

"I _was_," said Glorfindel. "But I killed it first. I mean, we killed each other. But only I came back to life."

"And he says there are other elves even creepier than he is."

"I'm not creepy."

"Yes, there are," said the other orc. "I've seen some of them. But they're not _much _creepier."

"Says who?" said the first orc sceptically.

"Says me. I'm a good judge of creepiness."

The two orcs began arguing over this. In the meantime, a third orc came up to Glorfindel and looked him up and down.

"Did you really kill a balrog?" he asked.

"Yes," said Glorfindel smugly.

"Will you teach me how?" said the orc. "I'm tired of being kicked around by that know-it-all Ugluk."

"What? Me? Teach my combat skills learned from thousands of years of practice and training by the highest elvish masters to a mere orc? Never! That is...well, what would you give me in return?"

Glorfindel looked sideways at the orc with a hungry expression. If the orc happened to mention anything to do with food, now...

"I can't offer you anything," said the orc. "But I'll introduce you to a lot of other guys who want to be trained. We could start our own elite force and hire ourselves out as mercenaries. There's a good market for those right now."

"There's one problem," said Glorfindel. "We're in a death camp. That means we can't go anywhere, remember?"

"I just work here," said the orc. "I can leave any time I feel like it."

"Well, _I_ can't."

"I'll help you escape."

"Now you're talking," said Glorfindel.

"Wait, wait, wait," said the orc. "_If_ and only if you promise to train me."

Glorfindel pretended to hesitate for the merest fraction of a second. "You'll have to be really committed if you want to learn everything I can teach you," he said. "You'll have to practise all day long and even then you'll never be as good as me."

"Deal," said the orc.

"Okay," said Glorfindel.

"We'll escape at midnight."

Glorfindel turned back to the rock he was supposed to be moving, only to find that it now had a notice stuck to it with sticky tape.

The notice read:

**Creepiest Elf Contest**

Date to be decided. Place to be decided. A contest for determining who is the creepiest elf in Middle Earth. Only full-blood elves qualify for participation. Mere elvish descent does not qualify you. Results will be based on looks, not skills or performance. Judges will be Flizpot and No Nose. Apply at the Black Gate.

* * *

**Who do you think should be the creepiest elf? I already have one in mind (actually it's not Galadriel...) but I'm accepting nominations.**


	14. Missing Member

A/N: Hey, thanks for reviews! Lots of votes on the creepiest elf so far. There's a few more chapters to go before the contest so there's more time to vote if you have any more ideas!

* * *

**Chapter 14: Missing Member**

"Stop!" shouted Gandalf. "We need to count ourselves and make sure we're all here."

He started counting rapidly, arrived at a number, and then realised that he didn't know how many of them there were supposed to be in the first place. While he was realising this he forgot the number he had arrived at.

"Pippin!" he shouted. "We're missing Pippin!"

"Here I am," said Pippin, popping up. "Did you miss me?"

"Fool of a Took!"

"Ouch!"

"All right then I think we've got everyone," said Gandalf in relief. "Those nazgul didn't get any of us."

"No," said Legolas, appearing just then with an angsty expression of grief on his face. "Gimli is missing."

"What?"

Everyone hastily looked around for their favourite dwarf but it was too true: Gimli was indeed no longer in their company.

"What are we going to do, then?" Pippin asked and then hid behind Merry.

"We'll have to go on without him," Gandalf decided. "We must make the rendezvous with Aragorn in two days."

"We can't just leave him behind," said Sam.

"We have to."

"We're running out of time," supplied Merry helpfully.

"You guys go ahead," said Legolas. "I'll go rescue Gimli by myself."

"Legolas," said Gandalf. He grabbed Legolas's arm and pulled him aside. Legolas's eyes widened in horror as Gandalf whispered something in his ear.

"What did he say?" asked Merry.

"He said that Gimli probably deserted us so that he could go on ahead and save Lady Galadriel," said Legolas.

"Idiot!" shouted Gandalf. "I didn't want the whole company to know! Why do you think I was whispering?"

"Gimli wouldn't do that," said Elladan.

"No, he wouldn't," agreed Legolas.

Gandalf shook his head. "You know how impatient he was getting. Besides, he never really believed we were serious about saving her. Most likely he allowed the nazgul to capture him in order to get to Barad-dur faster."

"I can't believe he'd do that!" said Legolas, who obviously did.

"He was mad at you, remember?" said Sam. "He probably left because you never said you were sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"Cheating."

"I didn't cheat!"

"Okay, everybody," interrupted Gandalf impatiently. "We need to start moving. Erestor and Lindir, are you coming?"

Erestor and Lindir were standing a short distance from the company, examining a sign pinned to a nearby boulder.

"Do you think we'd stand a chance?" asked Lindir in a low voice.

"If it were 'handsomest elf' definitely. But I'm not sure we'd qualify as 'creepy'."

"You would, I'm sure."

"Well...so would you."

"It can't hurt to try..."

"But do you think it's quite - _dignified_?" asked Erestor, straightening his robes uncertainly.

"Are you two going to stand there all day?" shouted Gandalf.

"Hey, what are you looking at?" asked Elladan. " 'Creepiest Elf Contest?' What's that?"

"We're going to enter," said Lindir.

"Hey, let's do it too, bro!"

"Not so fast!" said Gandalf. "I thought we were all going to Barad-dur to remove the Dark Lord from power."

"Yeah, we'll have plenty of time after the contest," said Elrohir.

"You won't get far without Gimli, anyway," said Legolas.

"Don't tell me you're going to enter it, too?" cried Gandalf as he saw all his best elves deserting him.

"Do you think I look creepy enough?" asked Legolas insecurely.

"Yes."

"No."

"I thought you wanted to rescue Gimli," Gandalf said.

"I thought you said your dad told you to come home," said Sam.

Legolas looked even more insecure.

"Come on, I'm sure they'll be fine without you," said Elrohir.

"Legolas, if you leave I'll hit you with my staff," Gandalf warned.

"And turn him into something onnatural?"

"Thank you, Sam, yes. And turn you into something onnatural."

"And call you fool of a -"

"Silence, fool - I mean - Pippin!"

"Okay," said Legolas, hanging his head and slinking to the back of the line.

"Awww," said Elladan. "Oh well. We'll miss you. Bye!"

So saying the four elves set off slightly northwards towards the Black Gate. The rest of the now diminished fellowship pursued its original course towards the crossroads in Ithilien.

"If I hear any complaining back there - " warned Gandalf.

Nobody wisely said anything.

_Two days later..._

"Well, we're here," said Legolas obviously. "And no sign of Aragorn."

Suddenly they heard an orcish shriek coming from a distance through the trees.

"What's that?" cried Merry while the rest of the hobbits cowered in fear.

"Pippin!" said Gandalf. "Are you playing Temple Run again?"

"No!" said Pippin as another, much nearer, scream filled the air.

A voice on a loud speaker suddenly blasted into their ears.

"WHO'S IT GONNA BE? WHO'S GONNA BE THE _SOLE _SOOHVIVAH?"

* * *

_Okay, I will _try_ to update every week after this. But we'll have to see..._

_Coming up next: Where did the nazgul take Gimli?_


	15. The New Nazgul

**PythonAnon: **I'm not sure if Thranduil is going to enter yet or not. If he does, he'll definitely be at least runner up. **Zane's Girlfriend: **Aha! You'll have to wait until the next chapter to find out! *spoilers spoilers* **OneSizeFitsAll: **Actually, I think Lindir is pretty creepy in his LotR incarnation. But I wouldn't say he's the creepiest. **Lily Lindir-Aubrey: **But yes, he does deserve a prize of some sort. Are you possibly a bit biased? ;) **BlueberryMuffins76: **I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this story, actually. :P Glad you enjoyed!

* * *

**Chapter 15: The New Nazgul**

Gimli managed to push aside the flapping black robes of the nazgul who had captured him and look around. He was on the back of a fell beast and the ground seemed a dizzying distance below, although it was too dark to tell for sure so he was basing this belief on the force of the wind rushing around him and the intense cold.

"Are we almost there?" he asked, shivering.

"Stop asking questions," said the nazgul irritably.

Gimli looked ahead and was shocked to see something green and glowing coming closer and closer. He thought at first it was some ghostly apparition but in another minute he could see it well enough to discern the dread outline of Minas Morgul. The nine nazgul swooped down and entered the radioactive citadel.

Gimli was unceremoniously dumped in a dungeon and fed bread and water for two days (for no reason except that if he wasn't, this story would involve time travel). Eventually he was taken out and dragged before the leader of the nazgul who was sitting on a glow-in-the-dark throne, looking ominous.

"I'm not afraid!" said Gimli, who actually was. "Be ye man or wraith, I fear you not!"

"I am no man!" said the nazgul, standing up and removing its helmet to reveal blond hair and...

"Eowyn!" said Gimli, shocked.

She was wearing a black leather jacket and black leather skirt covered with chains and skull-shaped studs, tons of black eye-liner around her eyes and black lipstick.

"But-but you were such a nice girl," said Gimli sadly.

"Oh yeah?" said Eowyn, flipping a dreadlock over her shoulder. "Well, no more Miss nice girl now! You can call me the Witch Queen."

"What happened to the Witch _King_?" asked Gimli.

"I stabbed him," said Eowyn. "Proving that I'm way cooler than he is. Now the nazgul follow _me_."

"Why did you capture me? I used to be your friend."

"I was trying to capture the whole fellowship. Sauron offered a huge reward for them."

"But why should you be working for Sauron?" said Gimli who was still confused. "He's the bad guy. He's the one who told Saruman to attack Rohan, remember?"

"Well yeah, I guess so; but he's the lord of Middle Earth now."

"But that doesn't mean you have to work for him. You have the nazgul. That means that you can do whatever you want to do."

"Hey, yeah;" said Eowyn. "It does."

"You can go join the rest of the fellowship and help them defeat Sauron," Gimli went on logically.

"Okay," said Eowyn. "Where are they?"

"They're supposed to meet Aragorn at the crossroads in Ithilien."

"You hear that?" said Eowyn to the other nazgul. "Let's go! Hey wait," she said as Gimli prepared to run off. "Aren't you coming with us?"

"No, I'm going to go save Lady Galadriel!" shouted Gimli, departing through the back door.

* * *

_Yes, very short. I'm wanting to hurry up and get to the next chapter._

_I like mean!Eowyn._

_Next week: Will Aragorn meet the fellowship at the crossroads, or did he perish gruesomely in the Paths of the Dead? Oh, yeah that's right I had him in another chapter so we know he survived. _

_Okay, but will he show up? Really, who cares, but hey whatever..._


	16. Survivor

**Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: **Okay, I'll make some more Lindir chapters. :D Unfortunately I don't do him as well as you do. **Machete Girl: **Eowyn is easily convinced. I think deep down she's insecure. (After all, Aragorn basically dumped her.) **Pip the Dark Lord of All: **:D I'm loving the Lord of the Braces, by the way - it's awesome! **OneSizeFitsAll:** She's tons of fun! **PythonAnon: **Is there a 911 for Middle Earth? I'll call Elrond. **firstlegolasfanever: **Here you go! (By the way, _are_ you the first fan? O.O) **Rousdower: **Do you mean Eowyn? She _is _scary. **BlueBerryMuffins: **Yes, Frodo will get more with it later on. Maybe when he gets closer to the ring. Gimli needs a fanclub.

Thanks, everyone!

* * *

**Chapter 16: Survivor**

Everyone looked around to see from whence the voice had come. There was a flash of green and someone who looked like Robin Hood with reddish hair swung down from a headless statue and landed in front of them, holding a microphone.

"Hello, everybody, and wilcome to t'die's epeesode of _Soovivah._ T'die we have contistants—oh, wait. We seem to be out of contistants."

Here the announcer stopped and looked confused. Then his face brightened.

"Would _you_ like to be on t'die's show?"

"No," said Gandalf crossly.

"Are there prizes?" asked Merry.

"Yes, you win tons of money if you soovive."

"I'll be on your show," said Pippin.

"Peregrin Took, you should know better than to accept money from strangers!"

"I'm not a stranger," said the announcer. "Don't you remember me, Gandalf?"

"Oh, that's right. You're that annoying Denethor's crazy son Faramir."

"I'm not crazy!"

"I meant to say, you're that annoying Faramir's crazy son Denethor. No, that crazy son Denethor's Faramir. I mean—"

"Hey, what's up?" said Aragorn.

"Aragorn!" said Legolas.

"You made it!" exclaimed Sam.

"So where is everybody?" asked Aragorn, looking around and noticing there were a lot of people missing from the fellowship.

"They deserted us," Gandalf explained shortly.

"To go to a creepy elf contest," said Pippin.

"Gimli went to a creepy elf contest?"

"No, Gimli got captured by a nazgul."

"Oh," said Aragorn, still slightly confused. "Okay. Well, it's a good thing I brought some recruits then."

"Uh, Strider," said Sam, "you're all by yourself."

Aragorn looked around. "Wha— where'd they go?" He facepalmed. "Oh no. I _told _them they weren't allowed to swim in it!"

He turned and took off through the woods while the rest of the fellowship followed. When they reached the forbidden pool they stopped short in amazement. A whole host of green glowing people were diving into a sea of skulls in the pool, which they seemed to have drained for the purpose.

"I thought you released them," said Gandalf.

"These are different ones," Aragorn replied.

"Dad!" shouted Faramir.

Denethor poked his head out of a pile of skulls.

"Oh no. You," he said, pulling his head back in.

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "I told them to leave the skulls behind in the cave," he said, "but they all insisted on bringing along the best ones from their collections and look at how many they brought!"

"My skullssss! My precioussss!" said Smeagol.

"Boromir, you're still alive!" shouted Merry and Pippin.

"And the orc dude who killed you is still alive too," observed Legolas.

"Yeah, we're best buddies now," said Boromir, as he and Lurtz continued pelting each other with skulls.

"This is perfect! You can ALL be in my show!" said Faramir.

"We don't have time for that," Gandalf protested.

"I forgot to ask," said Pippin; "what are we supposed to be surviving?"

"Orcs," said Faramir. "Ithilien is full of orc hunting parties. And a stray mumakil or two."

"And so far you haven't _had_ any survivors," Gandalf pointed out.

"Well, no. But tons of people watch the show anyway."

"Your audience is probably completely made up of orcs, that's why; and no thank you by the way. We have to get to Mordor and get the ring back from Sauron."

"Aw, Gandalf!" said Legolas.

"Yeah, it sounds like fun," said Aragorn.

There was a sudden high-pitched shriek and everyone cowered.

"Nazgul!" someone screamed (probably the cameraman who was still filming).

"Hey," shouted Faramir. "Get a video of me doing this!"

He shot an arrow at the fell beast the nazgul was riding and it tumbled to the ground.

"I hit it! I hit it!" sang Faramir, dancing around the fallen beast. The black rider climbed out from under it and slapped him.

"Moron!" said Eowyn. She stomped over to Aragorn.

"Oh, uh," said Aragorn, recognising her. "Eowyn, I—"

"Jerk!" said Eowyn, slapping him. "You just walked out on me and now you want me to help you get the stupid ring back."

"Uh, who told you about that?" asked Aragorn.

"Gimli."

"Is he okay?" asked Legolas.

"Yeah, he went off to save Lady Galadriel."

"I told you so!" said Gandalf.

"Did you say you were going to help us?" asked Aragorn.

"Yes," said Eowyn. "On _one_ condition. ONE."

"What's that?"

"That you give me the ring so I can be the one ruler of Middle Earth."

"But that would defeat the whole purpose!"

"That's extortion, Eowyn!" shouted Gandalf.

"Yeah, not to mention the title Dark Lady sounds really weird," muttered Legolas.

"Sexist!" shouted Eowyn, slapping him.

"Ow!"

"Okay," said Aragorn. "You help us get the ring back and we'll think about it. How's that?"

"Don't try to trick me!" said Eowyn. "You have to promise!"

"Well, we're not going to!" said Sam. "We've got to destroy the ring or Sauron won't be defeated. Isn't that right, Mr. Frodo?"

"The ring must go to Mordor," murmured Frodo zooily. They took this to mean yes.

"Then I'm not going to help you!" said Eowyn, crossing her arms.

Gandalf cleared his throat. "Eowyn," he said in a wheedling voice, "you're really pretty and—"

"Yeah," Aragorn interrupted. "And if you help us take out Sauron you'll prove to everyone that you're more powerful than the dark lord."

"Really?" said Eowyn, her eyes growing starry.

"Yeah, and it'll look totally awesome," said Legolas excitedly.

"Ahem," said Aragorn, cocking an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

"Don't overdo it," Aragorn whispered. "I was just saying it to make her say yes."

"Weeeeeelllll..." said Eowyn slowly. "Hey!" she said, her voice changing suddenly. "Stop filming me, okay? I don't want to be on your stupid show. And get away from my dragon, _you_."

Faramir was still standing in exactly the same place and position he had been in when Eowyn slapped him. His eyes were starry and he was staring at Eowyn with his mouth open.

"What's the matter with _him_?" asked Eowyn.

"Uh, Faramir, are you okay?" called Aragorn.

Faramir didn't respond.

"Okay, so let's go," said Aragorn. "There will be orcs here soon. Come on, everybody. To Mordor!"

"One does not simply—" began Boromir, but he was cut short by a sudden chorus of orc yells.

* * *

_The creepy elf contest will be in the next chapter. Until then, I have a **poll on my profile** for who ought to win the contest. Please vote for your favourite creepy elf and help the judges out. (Otherwise I will simply pick the one I think is the creepiest, and just so you know, it's Galdor - look up a pic of him on the LotR wiki.)_


	17. Creeps

Thanks, everyone, for the reviews!

_Disclaimer: These are the poll results for the creepy elf contest, not my own invention. I expect the voters were all orcs._

* * *

**Chapter 17: Creeps**

Sauron stormed into his office, feeling annoyed because he was late. That troublesome Mouth had borrowed his alarm clock without asking.

"Why don't you just use the alarm on your phone?" asked Sauron, seeing the causer of his troubles sitting in the corner eating a bagel and watching the morning news.

"It's broken," said the Mouth. "Why don't you use yours?"

"It's too much trouble to think about last thing at night," grumbled Sauron. "Besides, my phone alarm is annoying."

"You can change it."

"Too much trouble. Anyway I want my alarm clock back. It was a present from Melkor. Where's my secretary?"

"She's probably at the creepiest elf contest."

Sauron stared at the Mouth.

"_Where_?" he asked.

"Didn't you hear about it? They advertised it all over Middle Earth. The results will be broadcast in another hour or so."

"I don't remember giving permission for that," said Sauron, trying to decide whether it was worth getting mad about.

"Oh, don't spoil the fun please, Master," said the Mouth. "I bet a lot of money on Celeborn."

"That was a good bet," mused Sauron. "Can I enter an elf?"

"You can't enter someone else; you have to enter yourself."

"Why? Where's the fun in that? Besides, I'm not an elf. Can Maiar enter?"

"No, the rules said elves only."

"That's not fair!"

"I know," said the Mouth with a sigh.

Sauron was silent for awhile. Finally he spoke.

"How soon did you say they were going to publish the results?"

* * *

Down in one of the labour camps loud rock music was playing as the creepy elf contest progressed. The huge crowd that had gathered to watch the event had gradually dwindled until only the most hardened orcs still remained and many of them wore harassed and traumatised expressions. The creepy elf turnout had been far better than anyone expected and competition was fierce.

"THE LADY GALADRIEL!" shouted the announcer.

Galadriel swept onstage and faced the audience.

"_The world is changed..._" she said eerily. "_I feel it in the water...the mirror shows many things..."_

She stared at the judges and her pupils dilated.

"_Pick me, pick me, pick me..._"

Several people in the audience gasped and someone screamed. A long hook appeared from the side of the stage and jerked Galadriel into the wings. The judges wrote down their scores looking rather ill.

The next contestant mounted the stage hesitantly and waited with his hands awkwardly clasped behind him as two orcs brought up a large harp.

"Ahem," said Lindir.

He sat down and began to play.

"Tra-la-la-lally, here down in the valley, ha ha!"

The orcs were unable to decide whether to boo for his bad playing or cheer for his creepyness so they did both. Lindir looked hopefully at the judges as he left the stage. He was barely off it before Tauriel pushed past him and pranced up into the spotlight.

"Hi-ya!" she shouted, stabbing the giant spiders she had brought with her from Mirkwood.

She flipped all over the stage, ignoring the boos of the orcs who thought they could do it better.

"Okay, time's up," said the announcer.

Tauriel pouted. She had hoped to get the hook. Only the creepiest elves were removed with the hook, which was an emergency measure to prevent orcs dying from overexposure to creepyness.

"THE LADY ARWEN!"

Arwen glided gracefully onto the stage. She had invented some elvish phrases just for the occasion but suddenly she couldn't remember them.

"Ummm," she said. "Okay, I'm going to have to play a video."

She went to the projector and slipped a dvd into it. Images appeared on the screen of she and Aragorn kissing. There was a lot of commotion in the audience and all the exits were crammed full of fleeing orcs for the next five minutes.

"Okay, that's enough now!" shouted the announcer as the sound crew hastily unplugged the projector.

"Hooray! That's my girl!" shouted Elrond from the audience.

Arwen smiled smugly and left the stage with a patronising glance at Tauriel.

"That's it for the live performances," said the announcer, referring to a printed sheet in his hand. "We will now go on to the video exhibits. The first one is from Thranduil, elvenking of Mirkwood, who couldn't be here in person. Let me see...uh, are there any children in the room?"

He looked around but all the children who had come to witness the contest had left after the first few performances and were now undergoing intensive therapy.

"Good. I must warn the rest of you, there may be disturbing images displayed."

The spotlight went out and the video started playing. It was a shot of Thranduil slicing the head off an orc. There were shouts and cries of protest and a censor image appeared on the screen. The crew quickly turned it off and played the next video.

It happened to be one from Legolas, who also couldn't be present. It was a rap number called They're Taking the Hobbits to Isengard. There was a chorus of groans from the audience as this popular number appeared to be overly familiar to all of them.

"And that's all the contestants," said the announcer, as the last video ended. "Wait a minute, there's a last minute entry that just came in. Lord Elrond."

"But I didn't enter," protested Elrond.

"Well, we have a video of you. All right roll it, boys."

"NOOOO!" shouted Elrond, rushing to the stage.

He was too late to stop it, however. It was not a full video but actually a gif. It portrayed Elrond daintily sweeping up his overly lengthy robes like an elven princess to avoid stepping on them as he descended a flight of steps. Being a gif it played over and over and was more disturbing each time.

There was a long silence in the auditorium. Then suddenly all the orcs burst out into raucous laughter.

"_Dad?_" said Arwen.

Elrond buried his face in his hands.

"He promised he wouldn't," he protested faintly.

"Attention, everyone," said the announcer, appearing on the stage again. "We are about to announce the winners."

A hushed and attentive stillness fell.

"And the first place winner with her video of - um...yeah, her video! is...LADY ARWEN!"

Cheering broke out on all sides as Arwen mounted the platform to receive her trophy.

"Second place for impressive telepathy and mind manipulation...LADY GALADRIEL!"

"No fair!" said Tauriel.

"And third place for his viral YouTube video of his song with Kermit the frog...TIGWIT!"

"LINDIR! It's LINDIR!" shouted Lindir, unable to make himself heard above the applause.

"Thanks, everyone for coming," the announcer continued. "We look forward to next year's contest -"

"Next year's?!" hissed a voice as the witch king appeared on the stage. "You're not doing this dumb thing _again_, are you?"

"Well..." said the announcer timidly, "we had a really great turn-out, don't you think? And we made tons of money off the ad space we sold on all the tv channels we broadcast it over."

"Whatever," said the witch king. "I don't care. I came here to find my nazgul. They're probably here somewhere - they like cheap thrills. Have you seen them?"

"No, I haven't. Actually, I haven't seen them since..."

"Since when?"

"Well, since...you...um..."

"Since I what?"

"Well...got killed by that Rohirrim, sir."

"Oh, so they think they can slack off while I'm not around to crack the whip, do they? I'll show them!"

He turned and departed with a swirl of black drapery. As he went out a small orc who had been selling tickets at the door entered breathlessly.

"We have a problem," he announced. "We just got a threatening phone call from Thranduil, elvenking of Mirkwood who is upset over not winning the contest. By rights he should have, he said. Discrimination was mentioned."

Another orc appeared.

"The phones are ringing off the hook. Prince Legolas complains about his video not winning. He's threatening to sue."

There was a commotion backstage and Tauriel appeared, swinging blades in all directions. The auditorium cleared rapidly. The creepy elf contest was over.

* * *

_I'm not entirely sure why Lindir came in third. Oh well, he can certainly be creepy..._

_I have not seen the Kermit the Frog video (and somehow I doubt it's actually viral) but Lily Lindsey-Aubrey said it was indeed creepy._


	18. A Short One

First of all, I made a mistake in the last chapter (I already fixed it so don't bother to look) where I said Arwen used her wedding dvd. No, she's not actually married to Aragorn yet. I just keep forgetting which alternate universe I'm in. :P Timey wimey stuff. Sorry about the confusion.

**MacheteGirl: **It is indeed. XP** Rousdower: **I didn't think about that, but yes, that meme is pretty creepy.** Phillip Callaway: **XD** BlueberryMuffins76: **Yup, I ship Farawyn! :D** Lily Lindsey Aubrey: **Definitely put that in LoL - it's perfect!

* * *

**Chapter 18: A Short One**

"WHAT!" screamed Sauron, staring at the tv screen. "How could he not win? That was totally creepy!"

"You have to admit, Arwen's was pretty frightening," said the Mouth. "I don't know that we should allow orcs to see such things. I mean, Mordor is supposed to be a safe place."

"Man, I should have bet on Galadriel," Sauron sulked. "I thought about it. I put the rest of my bets on Galdor and he didn't even place.

"Neither did Celeborn," said the Mouth with a sigh.

They jumped as someone suddenly pounded on the door.

"Go see who it is," whispered Sauron.

"Who do you think it is?" asked the Mouth, wondering why Sauron was frightened.

"I don't know, but it could be Galadriel. Or..." Sauron's voice trailed off as a thought occurred to him.

"What?"

"Elrond! That's who it is! I promised him I wouldn't publish that video if he did what I told him to. Now he's probably mad at me."

"Lord Elrond?" asked the Mouth, awed. Lord Elrond was intimidating.

"I didn't _really _publish it. I just entered it in the contest. That's not the same. It's probably all over YouTube now, but that's the orcs' fault, not mine."

"Open up!" shouted a voice on the other side of the door.

"Go tell him to go away," said Sauron.

"But master, the last time I opened the door to see who it was somebody chopped off my head!"

"Obey me!" hissed Sauron, slipping behind his heavy iron desk while pointing inexorably at the door.

Ducking his head and cowering, the Mouth obeyed. He had barely lifted the latch before the door flew open, banging him against the wall and a small bundle of hair, beard, and chain mail bounced into the room swinging an axe.

"Where is she?" shouted Gimli. "Where is she that is fairest? I've come to rescue you, my lady!"

"She's not here," said Sauron, straightening up and toying with a paper clip to make it look like he had simply been retrieving one from the floor.

"Where is she?"

"Why? What are you doing here, and where is the rest of the fellowship?"

"I'm here to rescue her," said Gimli. "The rest are coming."

At this the Mouth, who had come out from behind the door rubbing his head, quickly hid himself behind the door again.

"They're coming, my master!" he squealed. "Don't let them get me!"

"Quiet!" ordered Sauron. "We must keep calm." He turned back to Gimli. "You say they're coming _here_?"

"Well," said Gimli, remembering that he had to be discreet, "they _may_ be. It'll probably take them awhile. It was rather hard for me to get in here."

"But you still got in," Sauron pointed out. "All right, we need to form an emergency plan."

Gimli was growing impatient.

"First you need to tell me where the Lady Galadriel is," he insisted.

"The Lady Galadriel?" said Sauron. "I thought you were looking for Eowyn. How am I supposed to know who's fairest, after all? She's at the creepy elf contest."

"Don't lie to me," Gimli said, holding his axe at a threatening angle. "You've been keeping her a prisoner here."

Sauron clutched his Maia hair in both hands.

"When will I be rid of these people?" he harangued. "Mordor used to be a peaceful place - no uninvited guests wanting to drop in to cut off people's fingers and destroy rings. No armies making suicide attacks. No crazy Rohirrim demanding their sisters. No elven hippies."

He paused, meditating on how nice it had been.

"And now," he resumed, "I can't have a single moment to call my own."

"Give up the Lady of Light and I'll go away," said Gimli.

"She's not my prisoner," said Sauron. "She's working for me."

"Lies!"

"She's my secretary."

"She'd never!"

"Well, she is, so deal with it."

Gimli's jaw dropped so low that his beard touched the floor.

"She...she _can't_ be."

* * *

So next time: The elves discuss the results of the contest. Erestor is stoic. Elrond swears revenge. Celeborn and Galadriel come up with a devious plan.

See you next week! XD


	19. A Cunning Plan

Hello, everyone. *looks embarrassed* I'm back. I know it's been more than a week... I was - on hiatus - yes, that sounds cool. Stephen Moffat - I mean c. c. gaylord - had writer's block. Also, I've been feeling depressed over all the awesome writers on this site and how bad I am in comparison X'( But anyway, here's the next chapter.

Oh oh oh before we begin I have to say: I finally got around to watching that video I alluded to of Bret McKenzie and Kermit the frog singing "Life's a Happy Song." It's SO CUTE. You need to go watch it right now. And if you haven't read Life of Lindir, Covert Occupations, or Hit It Tigwit, you should go read those. They're great Lindir-love stories in which he SINGS. Just like Bret McKenzie. XD (Yes, he's terrible.)

**Phillip Callaway: **Sauron bet on Elrond. Sorry to have not made that clear. :P Not that it matters to the story, really. **Machete Girl: **Well, if you're an evil Maia, Mordor is probably peaceful compared to what you'd encounter anywhere else. XD **Sixty-four K: **Yes, poor Gimli. I'm not sure why he liked her in the first place. **Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: **I don't think you have to worry; Galdor isn't as violent in this story. XD **Rousdower: **I felt sorry for the Mouth for the two minutes he was actually in the movie. So sad. :'( **Pip the Dark Lord of All: **Thanks for all the reviews! You're awesome! And VERY committed to have read this looooong story. **loopid: **Thanks! Sorry to take a while updating... **OneSizeFitsAll: **I don't really think Lindir is all that creepy either, but those were the poll results... I guess he was kind of creepy in LotR. Not so much in Hobbit.

Thanks, everyone! You're such devoted reviewers, I love you all!

* * *

**Chapter 19: A Cunning Plan**

"I can't believe it!" said Gimli. "I can't believe she was working for you the whole time."

"Well, get over it because it's true," lied Sauron.

"But I believed every word she said. I was so naive. So easily fooled."

"Shouldn't be gullible."

"And when we went to Lothlorien I was so sure I wouldn't fall for her schemes."

"At least you found out the truth before it was too late. I'm surprised the others didn't tell you anything."

"Others?" said Gimli.

"Of course," said Sauron, feeling it just as well not to waste a good lie. "Don't tell me _they_ fooled you too. Here, allow me to enlighten you."

He pulled a sheaf of propaganda pamphlets from a pigeon hole and tossed them at Gimli. The pamphlets had been written by the Mouth, who was a gifted fiction writer and had once authored a successful comic book series in Numenor. Gimli sat down with the pamphlets and began to read.

* * *

Outside the tower Erestor was looking at the runners up list for the creepy elf contest. He sighed.

"I didn't even place. I should have entered a video like you and Arwen."

"I thought you did a pretty good job," said Lindir, who was polishing his trophy.

"I thought so too. And I picked out the creepiest T.S. Eliot poem I knew of. I suppose the orcs don't have enough culture for that sort of thing. Oh, congratulations on coming in second, Lady Galadriel," he said as he saw the elf approaching with her husband.

"Have you seen Orophin and Rumil anywhere?" said Galadriel.

"No. Why?" asked Erestor.

"Because they're wanted for starting hippie communes. I have to warn them to hide before Sauron finds them and arrests them."

"Starting hippie communes is against the law?" asked Erestor in surprise.

"What are you doing all standing around here for?" demanded an extremely grumpy Elrond, storming up to the tower steps. "Don't you have anything better to do with your lives?"

"Where are you going?" asked Lindir, blinking at his employer, who looked even grumpier than usual.

"To collect my personal belongings," said Elrond, turning around dramatically halfway up the steps. "I'm through with this place _forever_."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Wrong? I only came here because that cheat blackmailed me into being his personal slave," said Elrond hotly. "Now he's released that gif of me he no longer has any power over me and I'm leaving."

"But you can't," said Celeborn. "We need your help. We counted on you."

"Need my help for what?"

Celeborn looked at Galadriel. "Should we tell them?" he asked.

"We're planning to steal the ring from Sauron," Galadriel explained. "That way he won't be able to run everything anymore."

"Do you know where he keeps it?" asked Erestor hopefully.

"He wears it most of the time," said Celeborn. "But sometimes he forgets and leaves it in the bathroom."

"If we drove him crazy," said Elrond, brightening up, "maybe he'd forget about it long enough for us to steal it."

"Drive him crazy how?"

"Oh it shouldn't be difficult," said Celeborn modestly. "We practically do it every day. Don't we, dear?"

"He hates expressions of endearment," said Galadriel. "We could do a bit more of that. I think it would be very effective."

"Ssh, he might hear us," whispered Elrond. He turned to Erestor and Lindir. "Do you want to stay and help?" he asked.

The two elves looked at each other. "Uhh, sure," said Erestor. "I mean, we were going to help the fellowship steal it anyway."

Lindir said nothing and looked frightened.

* * *

Totally unaware of the plots going forward for the embezzlement of his precious ring, Sauron hung up his office phone in annoyance. What was the point of conquering Middle Earth if he had to answer his phone himself? Where was his useless secretary?

Gimli was still reading and muttering to himself in his corner. "Unbelievable," he said. "Aragorn used to be a hit man?"

"Fascinating, isn't it?" replied Sauron, who wasn't listening.

"And Legolas worked for a firm that sold biohazardous spider spray and there was a huge explosion in the factory that transformed him into a giant arachnoid creature and he sometimes reverts to his alternate form after eating too many carbohydrates? It can't be true!"

"Yes, I was rather impressed myself with what the Mouth came up with in the way of their origin stories," said Sauron.

"I was so deceived!"

"Now that you're enlightened, why don't you join me in capturing them and ridding Middle Earth of their corrupting influence?"

Gimli stared at Sauron in shock. "Help YOU? But you're the bad guy."

"Says who? Says Gandalf, and you just read all about how he made his money as boss of a gang of evil mutants."

"But Legolas..." protested Gimli. "He's my friend. I can't believe this horrible information about him."

"He's an elf and you know you can't trust elves. Besides, he once locked up your dad in the elvenking's dungeons, remember?"

"Ohhhh. Yes, I'd forgotten about that."

"And he said you looked like a goblin mutant."

"What?" said Gimli. "HE DID?!"

* * *

_Did you notice the cover image? Yes, that's Gimli back there. Yes, he's sneaking up on Legolas. Muahahaha I put foreshadowing in my cover pic. Aren't I awesome?_

_By the way, did anyone hear that Cate Blanchett is the evil stepmother in Cinderella? She's such a creepy villain!_


	20. Orc Attack

Sorry I'm late updating again. It's easier writing about Sauron than about the fellowship. :P

**Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: **}X-D **Ranger's Scop: **Yes, they do sound interesting... **Sixty-four K: **Thanks! Yes, I stole the origins stories from various comic book series. Aragorn and Legolas are kind of like superheroes. Aw, thank you so much. I shouldn't feel depressed since all you wonderful readers have left so many beautiful reviews. :D **Cupcake155: **I really liked her in Cinderella, actually - even though she was evil. She has a lot of presence. Lady Gaga? O.O That would definitely have gotten him first place. XP I would be scarred if I tried to imagine that, though. **Guest: **Don't you wish he had in LotR? But they would probably still have been friends. **girawesome43: **Glad you're enjoying it! I've actually been trying to keep the chapters short since I thought it would make it easier for people to read. But if you like them longer, I won't try so hard. XD **loopid: **XD They _are _kind of creepy... some of them... **FandomFangirl100: **It's fun driving one's family nuts. *chuckles evilly and rubs hands together* **Pip the Dark Lord of All: **Yes. Yes, he is. XD **Rousdower: **We shall see... Spoilers...

* * *

**Chapter 20: Orc Attack**

It was a beautiful day in Mirkwood. All the missile silos were on red alert because the radars had picked up a nazgul on a fell beast invading the elvenking's airspace.

"He might simply be lost. Ought we to give him a warning, sire?"

"Fire!" the elvenking replied.

* * *

The nazgul glanced down at the dense, jungle-like foliage below. He had no idea where he was going to land. He wasn't sure he even wanted to land, considering how unpredictable the silvan elves could be. He wished someone else had been chosen for this mission.

The next instant he heard a whooshing sound and several explosions as his fell beast was blown to atoms. He was happy to find himself alive - or that is, still undead - as he drifted down towards the tree canopy, using his cloak as a parachute. He crashed through the trees, severely denting his armour, and got painfully involved in a giant spider web before being cut free by camouflage-clad elves and marched to the elvenking's palace.

Thranduil was sitting on his throne, garbed in his usual flowing robes and elven armour and cradling an AK-47.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Before I state my mission I must protest your shooting down an unarmed aircraft," said the nazgul.

"Unarmed fiddlesticks. It was a fell beast. Besides, I don't allow the emissaries of Sauron to enter my realm. You wouldn't have gotten here alive except that I'm mildly curious as to what you have to say - and technically you aren't alive anyway."

"I'm not an emissary of Sauron," the nazgul protested. "Eowyn sent me. She wants your help stealing the ring of power."

"Why does the mortal crave my assistance?" mused the elvenking.

"Because she -"

"Shut up! I was talking to myself. I will consider your proposal. In the mean time leave my demesne. You pollute it."

With a wave of his hand, the elvenking ended the interview and the nazgul was dragged out.

"It's a trap, sire," said Feren.

"Possibly," Thranduil replied. "But it could prove interesting. Besides, Legolas tells me he is trying to recover the ring as well. It would be embarrassing if he were actually successful. People might start thinking he's more fabulous than I am."

"That _would_ be embarrassing."

"Exactly. I must prove to everybody beyond a shadow of a doubt that I, Thranduil elvenking am the most fabulous. Come, Feren. Let us steal this intriguing ring of power."

* * *

"I think we're lost, Pippin," gasped Merry.

The two hobbits stood in a small clearing in Ithilien. Orcish howls could be heard all around them.

"No we're not," said Pippin. "I know exactly where we are."

Merry stared at him with his mouth open. "But you've never even been here before!" he said.

"That's okay. I'm pretty smart. I'll find the way back to the others."

"Pippin," said Merry impatiently. "Everyone knows _I'm _the smart one and you're the stupid one."

"Then you find the way back."

Merry looked annoyed.

"Let's go this way," he said. He took two steps forward and then jumped backwards again as a band of orcs burst out of the trees just in front of him, waving crooked swords and shouting.

"Run, Merry!" shouted Pippin, turning and dashing in the other direction. Several orcs popped out of the woods in front of him and he screamed and fell backwards. Merry tripped over him and fell on top of him.

"WE'RE GOING TO DIEEEEE!" wailed Merry.

Suddenly a green shape popped out of nowhere and started chopping up orcs left and right.

"Don't be afraid, hobbits!" shouted the voice of Boromir. "I will save you!"

Somewhere nearby in the forest Aragorn and Legolas were fighting orcs and trying to look as awesome as possible for Faramir's cameraman who was still filming them.

"You'd better not put a commercial in this part," said Aragorn, chopping an orc's head off.

"You'd better give me as much screen time as Aragorn," said Legolas, shooting two orcs with one arrow.

Aragorn's dead army (minus Boromir) sat nearby, eating popcorn and clapping.

Some distance away Gandalf and Eowyn stood back to back, glaring at a bunch of orcs who had surrounded them.

"DEATH!" screamed Eowyn, waving her sword around.

"Don't worry, I'll save you!" shouted Faramir, appearing and shooting an orc with an arrow.

"I don't need you!" said Eowyn, bonking him on the head with a stick. Faramir passed out.

"We must find the others," said Gandalf, hitting an orc with his staff. "They can't be far away." He chopped another orc with his sword.

Suddenly Boromir appeared with a hobbit under each arm. "I saved the hobbits!" he said proudly.

"Where are Sam and Frodo?" asked Gandalf.

"Um, Idk."

"You're a failure!" shouted Gandalf. Boromir collapsed in an angsty heap.

"It's okay," said Faramir, waking up. "I feel for you, bro."

"Thanks, brother," muttered Boromir.

Just then Aragorn and Legolas appeared with the rest of the dead.

"Yay, we're all together again," said Aragorn. "Let's go before more orcs show up."

"We're missing Sam and Frodo," said Pippin.

"Oh well, we don't really need them anyway," said Legolas.

"Here we are," said Sam, as he and Frodo suddenly appeared from beneath what everyone had thought was a rock.

"Oh, ummmm," said Legolas, turning red.

"We just thought we'd hide under our elven cloaks," Sam explained. "Apparently nobody else was smart enough to think of that."

"Let's hide again," said Frodo, who was afraid of Eowyn.

"No; we've wasted enough time," said Gandalf. "What's that annoying sound?"

"Hold on, I need to take this," said Legolas, pulling his phone from his pocket. "It's my dad."

* * *

_I am NOT going to make Thranduil steal the ring for himself, because I think several other people are already writing stories about that and it would make things too confusing. It is a cool idea, though._

_So next time: More Sauron! Yaaay!_


	21. Sauron's Nervous Breakdown

**Pip the Dark Lord of All: **No, don't kill me! Sorry it's been awhile; I'm a slow writer. And I'm glad you liked the last chapter - I was afraid it was overly weird. :/ **Ranger's Scop: **Oh. My. Sainted. Aunt. SHE IS! Eowyn is the queen of the gargoyles! That is so creepy! I wish I could work that into this story but I haven't seen that movie so I would just be clueless. **Sixty-four K: **I'm interested to see what they do too. I'm totally making this up as I go. :P **FandomFangirl100: **So it was! Did anyone celebrate? My sister wouldn't let us destroy her one ring replica :( **Guest: **You think Legolas is more fabulous than Thranduil? You've just made one elven prince very happy. :D **Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: **Probably. One Ring by One Direction? XD Or maybe one of Lindir's hits!

* * *

**Chapter 21: Sauron's Nervous Breakdown**

"You're proofing Barad-dur against invasion?" the Mouth repeated, staring in amazement at his master. "-With a bucket of water?"

"I am merely taking precautions," explained Sauron. "Attend to my clever schemes, my minion. When the foolhardy fellowship arrive they will find the front door invitingly ajar and step boldly in, only to be met with an exceedingly unpleasant icy shower. Whereat they will beat a hasty retreat, terrified by my utter evilness."

"Oh," said the Mouth, trying to sound impressed. "Do you really think that will stop them?"

"I shall have super glue on the doorknob and other dastardly booby traps scattered about the place as well."

"Uh," said the Mouth, wondering how to phrase something so obvious, "if they get super glued, they won't be able to leave."

"Yes, but the one who is entrapped will not be able to make any mischief and the rest, hearing his despairing screams, will flee."

"Very clever, sir. But what if one of the orcs walks in here and knocks this bucket on himself?"

"Tell them to use the back door for awhile," said Sauron.

He and the Mouth stiffened as a musical voice echoed through the tower.

"Celeborn, yoohoo!"

Galadriel appeared in a doorway and almost simultaneously Celeborn appeared in another.

"Celeborn, my dove!" cried Galadriel.

"Galadriel, my blooming gladiola, did you call?"

"Yes, sweet pea. Have you seen the stack of papers that was on my desk?"

"Yes, I put it away."

"What? I still needed those! Why do you always have to mess with my stuff?" exclaimed Galadriel, slapping him.

She suddenly caught sight of Sauron and the Mouth standing there frozen in shock.

"Oh now, now," she said, kissing Celeborn on the cheek he was attempting to rub. "Galadriel mustn't be cross with her angel. Come with me and show me where you put the papers."

"I would follow you to the ends of Middle Earth," said Celeborn ardently.

They disappeared, leaving a very scarred Sauron and Mouth behind.

"Remind me never to get married," said the Mouth.

"If you ever get married," said Sauron turning on him menacingly, "I'll chop your head off again."

He facepalmed with both hands.

"They're doing it on purpose!" he cried. "I can tell. They're just trying to upset me. Oh, why would anyone be so cruel?!"

"Why don't you make them leave?"

"Because they would do more damage outside my tower than inside it. At least here I can keep an eye on them."

He stopped suddenly as he beheld Erestor stalk solemnly into the room followed by Lindir, who wheeled a tea tray with tea and biscuits.

"What are you doing in here?" Sauron demanded.

"We have joined your staff," explained Erestor.

"I didn't hire you."

"Lady Galadriel did," Erestor replied suavely. "And she has already advanced our pay, so you might not want to fire us right away. Lady Galadriel thought you looked unhappy and hoped some tea might cheer you up."

Lindir advanced obediently with the tea tray.

"Thank you," said Sauron, trying to sound displeased.

He reached for a tea cup and stopped as he noticed an oversized card in the middle of the tray.

"What's this? 'A little sunshine and love to brighten your day'?! What is the meaning... why would anyone... what have I done to deserve thiiiiissss?"

Sauron, despite the presence of the elves and his Mouth, broke down in tears.

"Um, sir?" said the Mouth awkwardly. Emotion always made him uncomfortable.

"Aw, it's okay," said Lindir, wishing he didn't always forget to carry a handkerchief for emergencies like this.

"My lord," said Erestor, first surprised and then assuming a professional attitude, "you seem to be suffering a nervous breakdown."

"I'm f-f-f-f-ine," sobbed Sauron. "I-i-it's just these elves... Nobody cares about how I feeeeeel."

"I care," said Lindir.

"Maybe I could get you... uh..." began the Mouth, trying to think of what could possibly cheer his master up.

"I know what I need," sniffed Sauron. "The Witch King! He'd get these elves into line. Where is he, anyway? I haven't seen him for days. Mouth, call him up and tell him I need him here right away."

"Yes, sir," said the Mouth obediently.

* * *

"Hi, dad," said Legolas, answering his phone. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm in Ithilien."

"We can't waste any more time," said Aragorn, losing patience. "Come on whoever's coming. Legolas can catch up later."

"Not so fassssst!" hissed a voice as a fell beast landed directly in their path. On its back perched the witch king.

"You!" shouted Eowyn.

"_You!_" gasped the witch king. "I - um - I mean, I didn't see you - uh, what are you doing here?" His gloved hands fiddled nervously with the reins.

"We're going to steal the ring from Sauron and you'd better not try to stop us," said Eowyn, putting her hands on her hips.

"Sorry, dad; I'm having trouble hearing you. What was that you said?" said Legolas in the background.

"Was it you who took over my nazgul?" demanded the witch king evasively. "I might have known you were at the bottom of it. Well, I'll teach you a thing or two."

AC/DC music started emanating from his robes and giving a start, the witch king hurriedly pulled out his phone.

"Hello? Oh, it's you. What does the master want?"

"Yes, I did get your letter, but I can't come home right now," Legolas went on in the background. "It's complicated, okay?"

"I'll be back soon. I have some unfinished business to attend to with an impudent little Rohirrim," said the witch king. He covered the receiver on his phone and turned back to Eowyn with a beseeching look that, unfortunately for him, was completely invisible.

"Give me back my nazgul, pleeease? I need them."

"NO WAY! I'm their rightful ruler now, since I destroyed you. And speaking of which, we still have a score to settle."

"Yes, yes, I killed your uncle, but you killed me, so let's call the bargain fair." The witch king put the phone to his ear again. "What's that? What's wrong with the master? He's got his ring of power, hasn't he? What more could he want?"

"I'm not talking about my stupid uncle!" shouted Eowyn. "You picked me up by my throat and it's still sore. NOBODY does that to me!"

"Dad, I can't explain it right now," said Legolas. "Can this just wait until we get a chance to skype? Okay, yeah maybe it does involve a dwarf, but it's not like you think it is."

"That dragon belongs to ME," said Eowyn to the witch king. "Get off of it right now."

"Just a minute," pleaded the witch king. "Hello, are you still there? Tell the master I'll be there soon. What? What kind of breakdown? Are you sure? That sounds serious."

"You're doing what?" said Legolas. "No, dad. You can't do that. You can't simply walk into Mordor. You'll get killed. Dad, please listen to me."

"Give him some Benedryl. Try to keep him quiet until I get there."

"Will you two quit freaking out and get off your stupid phones?" yelled Eowyn, who couldn't handle it anymore.

"You don't understand; this is an emergency!" said Legolas and the witch king in the same breath. They both stopped and stared at each other in silence, aware for the first time of the other's presence.

"Okay," said Aragorn. "Let's try this again. Everyone who's coming to Mordor follow me." He started off, but had to stop when he reached the fell beast, which was blocking the road.

"None of you are going anywhere," said the witch king. "My master is Lord of the Ring of Power and he will destroy all of you puny - eeeek!" He broke off with a shriek as Eowyn took a step towards him, and the next instant the fell beast was winging its way back to Minas Morgul as fast as the witch king could make it fly.

"Just let him wait! I'll get him yet!" said Eowyn darkly.

"Wow," said an awed voice at her side. "You were so strong."

"Go away, Faramir," said Eowyn. She turned and saw that it wasn't Faramir at all - it was dead!Grima. "EEEK!" she screamed, jumping into dead!Haldir's arms. "Kill it!"

Eowyn was so heavy Haldir passed out.

Aragorn started pulling his hair out. "Gandalf!" he said. "Maybe you'd better lead this expedition."

"Fine," said Gandalf. "Everybody get in line. Now we're going to walk to Mordor quickly and quietly with no rap music or flashdancing. PIPPIN! I said GET IN LINE!"

* * *

_I forgot about the witch king for several chapters, so I randomly threw him into this one. I know the fellowship is still no closer to Mordor, but at least Thranduil is. XD_

_By the way, there's something really cool called Fandom Friday. On the last Friday of every month you draw your fandom's symbol on your wrist, wear one of your fandom T-shirts or cosplay for your fandom, and of course tell all your friends what's going on! I'm hoping this thing will spread and it will be a way for fans to connect in random places like the grocery store. XD So I know... late notice... but we can all do this next month, right? Normal world, here we come!_


	22. The Mordor Ice Bucket Challenge

Soooo... sorry for another short (and late) chapter. I had tons going on this month with keeping up my blog and doing Camp Nano, not to mention lots of stuff that just happened... Okay, excuses over.

**FandomFangirl100: **Yes, it is! I'm going to wear my Captain America T-shirt tomorrow. What about you? **Pip the Dark Lord of All: **Marriage is over-rated. XD **cheeringforraindrops: **Many thanks, faithful reader! You are brave to have come so far through so much craziness. :P Flashdancing was an allusion to Disney's Up. Great movie, btw. **girawesome43: **Yes, poor Sauron. I wonder what colour his hair is? :/ That was random; sorry. **Blueberrymuffins76: **Yes, I'd like to see Leggy turn into a spider too! Don't worry; no elvenkings will be harmed in the making of this story. :) **Sixty-four K: **You should cosplay as Legolas and Lily should cosplay as Lindir. You hear that, Lily? **Guest: **You may count it your good deed of the day. XD Btw, you should join this site. Lots of cool people and stories to hang out with. (Say goodbye to normal life first, though.) **Phillip Callaway****: **Yes, I love Boromir/Faramir brother love too. Too bad they weren't the movies together very much. :( **Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: ***ahem* I wasn't going to mention names... And yes, Lindir's nice like that. ;) **Rousdower: **I would have passed out too. :P

* * *

**Chapter 22: The Mordor Ice Bucket Challenge**

Sauron was sitting in his most comfortable (meaning least spiky) chair with a cold pack on his head while Lord Celeborn stood nearby helpfully holding a bottle of smelling salts. The iron door of the room flew back against the wall with a painful clang and Galadriel swept in dramatically.

"It's all arranged," she said loudly, speaking unnecessarily close to Sauron's ear. "I've set up an appointment for you with Erestor."

Sauron moaned faintly. "Can't you speak in a lower tone?" asked in a plaintive voice. "My head is killing me."

"Take an advil," said Galadriel, proffering a glass of water and a small pink pill. "Erestor is waiting."

"I don't need a shrink," Sauron protested.

"Erestor is not a shrink. He's a very qualified counsellor and therapist. _And _he's giving you a special discount."

"Oh, I suppose I must," groaned Sauron.

He was interrupted by a loud crash and an elvish squeal from somewhere below.

"What's that? It's not them, is it? Mouth! Where are you? Don't let them in!"

Sauron clutched his robe more tightly about him and the uncontrollable trembling that he had only just mastered came back with redoubled violence.

"My lord Elrond," wailed a plaintive voice. "Where are you?"

"What have you done now, Lindir?" asked Elrond, stalking into the room. "You've upset the patient. I told you no loud noises."

Lindir entered through a different door with his robe sopping wet and the hem dragging on the floor.

"My lord Elrond, someone put a bucket of water above the door and it fell on me. Who would be so cruel?"

Sauron ceased shaking upon seeing who the intruder was. He had a momentary qualm of conscience which he immediately suppressed.

"You should have used the back door," he said.

"Oh, my poor Lindir!" cried Lady Galadriel, throwing her arms around the bedraggled elf. "There, there, don't cry. Celeborn, don't just stand there; get a towel! Mean Sauron to play such a naughty trick!"

"He was not the intended victim," said Sauron, but his voice was drowned out by Galadriel's high-pitched chatter. He began to feel the ominous tightness at his throat that had presaged his earlier breakdown. He decided to go see Erestor before it was too late for his sanity.

Erestor was sitting - lounging, rather - on a red-upholstered chaise lounge with his feet up in a state of relaxed reflection. He jumped up as Sauron came in and dusted off the headrest in embarrassment.

"My lord," he said, "so good to see you. Won't you have a seat? I'm so honoured to be of service to you. I hope you're comfortable. Are you quite relaxed?"

"How can I be relaxed when you're hovering over me and breathing down my neck?" complained Sauron.

"I'm sorry, my lord," said Erestor, clearing his throat and straightening his robe. "I shall attempt to assume a more professional attitude. Is this better?"

"Just get on with it," said Sauron.

"Very good, my lord." Erestor sat down behind a desk - it was actually Sauron's desk; Sauron glared at him but decided not to press a point - and opened a large book titled _Psychiatric Care for Dummies_.

"What's that for?" demanded Sauron, feeling insulted. "I'm not a dummy!"

"No, no, it's merely the title, your lordship," said Erestor in a conciliatory tone. He did not feel like explaining that the book was actually to teach Psychiatric care _to _dummies.

"Now," he said, finding his place in the book. "Do you have any of the following symptoms?"

There was a sudden bang from somewhere down below. Sauron groaned.

"I wish people would quit banging doors around," he complained.

Someone's metal shoes clanged on the stone floor and the witch king entered the room, dripping wet.

"Er, are you feeling all right, sir?" he asked.

Sauron stared at him. "What happened to you?"

"It appears someone propped a bucket of water above the door. I did not see it and-"

"Why can't people do as they're told and use the back door? It's no good using booby traps around here because I'm already surrounded by boobies!"

"Calm yourself, your lordship," implored Erestor. "Remember your condition."

Sauron stopped hyperventilating and tried to take several deep breaths. The results were rather shaky gasps.

"That's better, your lordship," said Erestor. "Now to continue..."

* * *

Thranduil opened the hatch on his tank and stuck his head out. The huge Black Gate towered in front of him, topped by two suspicious looking cave trolls.

"What's going on down there?" one of the cave trolls shouted.

Thranduil reached for his megaphone.

"Open the gate!" he announced. "Otherwise, we will take immediate offensive action."

The cave trolls surveyed the array of tanks, half tracks, bulldozers, and other large machinery lined up in formation.

"Sorry, we can't open the gate for anyone. Sauron's orders."

"You have been warned," said Thranduil. "FIRE!"

"Unless," added the cave troll hastily, "you happen to be on our side."

"We're not," said Thranduil.

"Do you want to join our side?" asked the cave troll hopefully.

"No."

"Well, do you know someone who's on our side?"

"We know Legolas," said Feren.

"Don't be ridiculous," said Thranduil, turning angrily on his lieutenant. "Legolas isn't on their side."

"Well, you never can -"

"Oh," said one of the cave trolls, relieved. "You're all right, then. We know Legolas. He stayed in our cave awhile back."

They started pushing a giant bar and the gate ponderously swung open.

"I still think we should blow it up," said Thranduil. "Just to be on the safe side."

"But we might need the ammunition to blow up Barad-dur," said Feren.

"Oh... fine." Thranduil huffed disappointedly, then thought how much fun it would be to blow up Barad-dur and brightened.

The air filled with exhaust fumes as seventy-five Abrams tanks rolled through the Black Gate into Mordor.

* * *

_Tomorrow is my 1 year anniversary of being on this site. Woohoo!_

_Tomorrow is also FANDOM FRIDAY! (Has it really been almost a month since I last updated this? :P)_


	23. Disguises and Detonations

**I'm back! Sorry for a looooong author's note. I love talking to all of you.**

**Rousdower: **I had to look up Robocop to see what it was. It sounds really cool and cyberpunk. Eh, Sauron deserves it. **Sixty-Four K: **Well, Thranduil is kind of blade-happy in Desolation of Smaug. :P **BlueberryMuffins76: **I can't envision Sauron as a blond, but it would be hilarious if he were! Maybe Thranduil will blow up the gate on his way out. **Pip the Dark Lord of All: **Are you going to take over Middle Earth as well? O.O And thank you! **LotCR: **Aha! I know who you are now. You review lots of Pip's stories. I love your reviews, by the way; by your last one I noticed you are a Whovian. WOOWHO! p.s. It's a fabulous tank. **FandomFangirl100: ***bows* Thank you, thank you. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. Anyways... Only two fandom shirts? Well, you could always cosplay too. I haven't done that yet but I want to. Were you pranking Pip? **Phillip Callaway: **Glad you liked the tanks! Okay, I'm updating; sorry it took me so long. :P **Ranger's Scop: **Awww, you don't feel sorry for Lindir? T_T **Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: **Thanks! Late is fine. And I would have to agree about the ice water versus Galadriel. :P

* * *

**Chapter 23: Disguises and Detonations**

The fellowship stopped in the central court of Minas Morgul while Aragorn counted heads.

"I think we're all here," he said, hoping he hadn't counted anyone twice. "Frodo, where are you going?" he asked as Frodo started sleep walking off.

"Listen up, everybody!" said Eowyn. "No touching anything. If you break something, you pay for it. And don't go into any rooms without asking."

"What a creepy joint," said Faramir, as his cameraman videotaped a glow-in-the-dark gargoyle perched on a nearby column.

"I decorated it myself," said Eowyn huffily.

"I mean it's creepy in a nice way," said Faramir hurriedly. "It shows definite taste and... and..."

"Artistic appreciation," cut in Grima.

"Yeah, precisely," said Faramir. "I mean, no. Don't listen to him! Stop stalking her, okay?"

"Both of you stop stalking me!" shouted Eowyn. "You're both creeps."

"Look who's talking," muttered Boromir.

"Like she said, nobody touch anything," said Aragorn. "We're just passing through. There's the Morgul Vale, up that way. We need to get through that to get to Sauron."

"Before we go there," said Saruman, sounding bored, "we might want to take a little time to formulate a plan. For instance, are we going to employ any stealth tactics?"

"Uh... Gandalf?" said Aragorn uncomfortably.

"Of course we will employ stealth," said Gandalf, wishing he'd thought of it first. It wasn't fair how Saruman was always one step ahead of him, even when dead. "This is the city of the Nazgul. We're certain to find some extra robes lying about which we can use as disguises."

"Excuuuuse me," said Eowyn. "Everything here is MY property and you have to get MY permission first."

"Fine, can we?"

Eowyn hesitated, wondering if she could extort any money from them. She noticed how grumpy Gandalf looked and decided now was not the time.

"I guess so, as long as you slobs don't lose them or get them dirty."

She unlocked a supply cupboard and pulled out a rack of nazgul robes neatly hung on hangers. The fellowship immediately began trying them on.

"Hey, this one's too long," complained Merry.

"I don't like this shade of black," said Legolas. "It clashes with my mascara."

Saruman picked one up between thumb and forefinger. "Black," he said. "I've always hated black. I'm a white wizard."

"Stop grumbling and put it on," said Gandalf, glad for a chance to boss his superior. "Everybody hurry up. We're wasting time."

"Hey, Hama, how do I look?" asked Theoden, poking his rider of the Mark.

"Very well, sire," replied Hama, attempting to disentangle a robe from the heap.

"Hey, I know, let's go off and scare some orcs. What d'ya say?"

"Do you think that advisable, sire?" asked Hama unenthusiastically.

"Sure, it'll be fun. It's boring hanging out with these guys. Come on, Theodred. I saw some stables over here where we can get horses."

Nobody noticed as the three shrouded figures slunk away.

* * *

As far as Erestor was concerned, the counselling session was going very well. Of course, it would have been going much better if he could get Sauron to be a little more communicative. He always had the most trouble with introverts.

"Let's talk about your past, your lordship," he said. "I'm sure it must have been very traumatic for you. Losing your leader, I mean."

"Pfft. It wasn't traumatic."

Sauron thought back to it and remembered just how not traumatic it had been. The Valar defeating Morgoth, himself switching sides at the last minute, Morgoth being consigned to the void with screams and imprecations. He hadn't enjoyed himself so much since the time his old boss almost got eaten by Ungoliant. He chuckled at the warm memory.

Erestor looked up from his book hopefully. The patient's mood seemed to be improving.

"Perhaps you could tell me your most traumatic memory," he suggested.

Sauron thought for a moment.

"I think it would have to be the moment when I realised two hobbits were trying to drop my precious into the crack of Doom. Unless you want to count yesterday when Galadriel decided to redecorate Barad-dur and painted my study pink. PINK. And that was only one wall. The other three she painted mint green. It was so nineties I almost died. Or we could count the thousand and one times somebody tried to use the front door and got that stupid bucket of water dropped on their heads. You'd think they'd learn after a while. If it wasn't a different person every time, that is."

"Yes, well..." said Erestor hastily. He had been the most recent culprit and his hair had not dried yet. "I don't think this is helping your state of mind. Maybe you should tell me your fondest memory."

"Fondest?"

"Happiest," emended Erestor.

"Hmmm..."

Sauron got a far away look in his eye. "It was rather nice back when I was a carefree werewolf. I miss those days sometimes. No dark lands to rule, no ring to worry about all the time..."

Erestor got an inspiration.

"You could return to those days, your lordship," he said.

"What?"

"Yes, and have fun like you used to. All you'd need to do is give up the ring of pow -"

"WHAT. GIVE UP THE RING?!"

Erestor didn't like it when Sauron spoke in that tone of voice. It made you feel like your head was imploding.

"It was just a suggestion," he said, squirming.

"GET OUT!" shouted Sauron. "And don't knock that pail of water on yourself as you go!" he added as Erestor fled precipitately.

* * *

"Mt. Orodruin in sight, sire," called Feren, above the rumbling of the tank tracks.

"Fabulous," said Thranduil. "Lob a few grenades in and see what it does."

The order was obeyed with ready alacrity and in a few seconds the air shook with heavy reverberations while falling lava hissed on the stones all around them.

"All right, enough fun," said Thranduil after they had admired the fireworks display for a few minutes. "On to Barad-dur. The Dark Lord is waiting."

* * *

"He thought he could try to take you from me," hissed Sauron, curled up in a ball in a corner of his office. He stroked the ring's silky smoothness. "They all want to take it from me. Why can't they mind their own businesses? After all, why shouldn't I keep it? It's mine, I made it. My own. My Preciou-"

He hadn't time to finish the word when a heavy shock wave hit the tower. A tea cup on his desk clattered to the floor.

Sauron sat up, clutching at the ring on his hand.

"What's going on?" he shouted.

From below he heard screams.

"Galadriel?" he called. "Are you hurt?"

Lindir burst into the room.

"Sauron, save me!" he shrieked. "The mountain is erupting!"

Sauron rushed to the window. The sight he saw outside filled him with dread.


	24. Renovations

**Thanks for the reviews, everybody! They were awesome, as usual. And I just noticed I'm up to 149, so whoever gets the 150th gets... something. Um, virtual cookies, maybe?**

* * *

**Chapter 24: Renovations**

Beregond and Eomer were playing flying pirates when a guard hurried in.

"Sir, three black riders have just entered the gate of Minas Tirith," said the guard, who was white and shaking.

"Black riders?" gasped Beregond. "Where? What are they doing?"

"Well..." said the guard. "At present they're going around knocking on doors and asking for candy."

A loud knock echoed through the room.

"Ooh, that's probably them," said the guard. "What should we do?"

Beregond looked frightened. "Don't panic," he said shakily. "Follow me."

He seized an iron mace and approached the door carefully. Taking a deep breath, he opened it a crack and peered out.

"TRICK OR TREAT!" shouted the black robed figures outside.

Startled, Beregond emptied a box of tictacs into the bag they were holding out.

"Nazgul, are you?" shouted Eomer. "Maybe _you've _seen my sister."

"Ha! Fooled you!" said the figure holding the bag, and he burst out laughing hilariously. "I'm your Uncle Theoden."

"What? Who? But-but you're dead."

"Yes I am, actually," said Theoden with a giggle. "That's what makes this such a fun disguise. And oh by the way, I have seen Eowyn. She was in Minas Morgul but I think she went to Mordor."

"I KNEW IT!" said Eomer. "I knew I would find her there!"

He burst through the door so fast that he ran through the other two ghosts and knocked their black robes off.

"Ah, oh well," said Theoden, shrugging. "Got anything besides tictacs?"

* * *

Barad-dur shook as another missile hit it. Sauron cowered underneath a table with his hands over his ears. Why couldn't Thranduil and his toughs just come in through the front door? It was open, after all.

Crash.

It seemed someone _had_ decided to use the front door. Sauron allowed himself the brief privilege of a satisfied smirk. The smile quickly left his face however as he heard Thranduil's voice below.

"That's why I always send someone else to scout out the area first," the elvenking was saying. "Keep an eye open for landmines."

"Y-y-yes, sire," shivered Feren.

Sauron could hear Feren's shoes squishing water out as he climbed the steps of the tower.

"I suppose I must go out and meet them," thought Sauron, climbing out from under the table and straightening his crown.

He assumed a striking pose as Thranduil entered the room. It would never do to show fear before that troublesome Galadriel and Celeborn.

"Ah, Thranduil," said Sauron in his most sinister voice. (The bad guy should always speak first; it established the right sense of inferiority in the victim.) "I've been expecting you."

"Good," said Thranduil. "Got anything to drink?"

"Not so fast," said Sauron, without losing his poise. He congratulated himself on this point because it was really hard not losing one's poise around the elvenking. "Perhaps you are not aware that you have walked right into my trap."

"No," said Thranduil. "Feren did. It was a pitiful excuse for a trap."

Sauron's self possession was beginning to slip. He couldn't think of an evil comeback so he resorted to glaring scornfully at his opponent.

"Regard yourself as a prisoner until further notice," Thranduil continued. "Resistance will result in instant death."

Sauron gritted his teeth. "Don't be too sure of that," he said. "Remember you don't have the ring of power. _I _do."

"Meh," said Thranduil. "Rings are blasé. I prefer crowns and necklaces."

Sauron brightened. If the elvenking wasn't interested in his ring then there was still hope.

Thranduil ran his finger over a shelf and rubbed the dust off it.

"This place is a dive," he said to Feren. "Cleanse it."

* * *

Glorfindel darted across a small stretch of open ground, somersaulted under a low-hanging tree limb, back-flipped over a crevasse, and slid under a boulder. He scanned the area he had just traversed, his knives at the ready. He could hear nothing, yet he knew he was being pursued relentlessly.

Sweat trickled from his scalp and he gripped his knives tighter, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. He had been running for hours. Perhaps he had shaken his stalker off at last.

_"What's this? An elf caught off his guard?"_

Glorfindel started violently, almost knocking himself out on the overhanging boulder. He collapsed gasping and staring wildly at the elleth with a knife levelled at his throat.

"Ha! Caught you!" squealed Arwen. "I'm a great stalker, aren't I?"

"Y-y-y-y-y-es, you w-w-w-win," said Glorfindel. "You get the prize (whatever it is). Now go back to your prison camp, Arwen."

"Aw, but I want to stay with you," said Arwen. "Come on, let me join your special orc corps."

"No means no," said Glorfindel. "Don't think chasing me around like this is going to change my mind."

"But why nooooot?"

"Because you're a girl."

"That's not fair!"

"And also I don't want a girlfriend."

"You'll like me," Arwen promised. "Just wait until you see me ride a horse."

"I've already seen you ride _my_ horse, thank you very much," said Glorfindel. "And I have no wish to see any more of you than I've already seen. Please, just leave me alone."

"Captain?" called a voice. "Captain, where are you?"

"I'm not going to stop following you until you let me join," said Arwen.

Glorfindel crawled out from under the rock, attempting to retrieve what shreds of his dignity were left.

"Um, hello, Ugluk," he said.

The two rivals had become frenemies when Ugluk had joined Glorfindel's elite orc corps but they still didn't get along with each other.

"What were you doing down there, captain?"

"Nothing." He turned to Arwen. "If I catch you following me any more, I'll make you sorry," he threatened.

"But I have to marry someone!" wailed Arwen.

Glorfindel and Ugluk both fled precipitately.

* * *

Another resounding boom echoed through Barad-dur. Sauron shivered and hoped Orodruin would get back to normal soon. How stupid could Thranduil be, lobbing grenades into it? He sat down on a sofa only to be told to move by Erestor who was vaccuuming the carpet.

Elves. Elves everywhere, cleaning everything. The whole place smelled of Febreze. Sauron wandered aimlessly through the tower and finally decided to try to find something to eat.

He reached the kitchen just as another explosion rocked the tower. Through the kitchen door a lot of smoke billowed and Sauron realised with horror that the explosion had come from _inside_ the tower. He dashed into the kitchen and seized a fire extinguisher.

"What's going on?" he demanded of the two orc cooks.

"We were just making a New York style cheesecake," said Mornok.

"Well, what happened?"

"I don't know. The oven seems to have blown up."

"Trust an orc," muttered Sauron. "Will I never have any peace?" he said in a louder tone to the two offenders. "Do you know how many decades that oven has served me faithfully? And now I have to buy a new one..."

He stopped as a light dawned on him. He didn't have to buy a new oven—Thranduil did, since he had decided to take over the tower.

Sauron smiled.

"Sire!" he shouted, entering the throne room. He smirked as he saw Thranduil shifting on the throne in a vain effort to find a comfortable position. He knew those spikes would come in handy one day and they finally had. The elvenking would rather sit on a throne and be in pain than not sit on one and be comfortable.

"What is it?" demanded Thranduil impatiently. Sauron's satisfaction deepened as he recognised the same annoyance he himself had been displaying recently. Thranduil was finding out that being a dark lord wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"The oven has exploded, sire. You'll have to buy a new one. Top of the line model, too. No craigslist finds."

"Very well," said Thranduil. "Of course top of the line. I may as well get the kitchen remodeled while I'm at it. You can be in charge of ordering the new appliances."

"Can I be in charge of something?" asked Galadriel sweeping in with a stack of paint chips. "And what do you think about repainting this room? I was thinking cool mint breeze for that wall. Or maybe honeysuckle vibe."

"Whatever you wish," said Thranduil with a dismissive wave. "Just make it fabulous."

Sauron's satisfaction faded. What were they going to do to his tower? He wanted it back when they were done with it, after all.

"Sire!" shouted Feren, running in. "We're being attacked!"

"I imagine my force is equal to any orc hordes Sauron may have at his command," Thranduil replied unconcernedly.

"No, sire, they're elves."

"What?"

"Hippie elves. They're protesting war."

Sauron ran to the window. This was too good to miss.

Outside Orophin and Rumil were waving signs and throwing water balloons filled with paint at the tanks. The elves inside the tanks shouted angrily but seemed intimidated. Sauron cackled with glee.

"Have them arrested," said Thranduil, appearing at Sauron's elbow.

Mount Orodruin rumbled in the distance and Sauron's contentment slowly returned. Not everything was going wrong. Thranduil had not noticed the eagles flying towards Barad-dur and the sight, which had filled Sauron with mortal fear only a few hours earlier, now gave him hope. If the fellowship was coming they'd have Thranduil to deal with. And Thranduil would have all those annoying people in his hair. Win win. Sauron could slip off during the commotion and start over somewhere else—the ruins of Angband, maybe. As long as he had the ring of power he was invincible.

* * *

Elrond hated cleaning the bathroom and it seemed he was always the one who had to do it. He'd tried to make Erestor do it this time but Thranduil (who had always disliked Elrond) had taken Erestor's side. Life was so unfair. Elrond squirted cleaner furiously all over the shower.

Suddenly he stopped, staring at the soap dish. He rubbed his eyes, got cleaner in them, and found it harder to see than ever. He put out his hand and picked up the object that had so amazed him.

Sauron's ring.

(_And since FandomFangirl100 asked for it:)_

Dun dun duuuunnnnn...

* * *

_I'm going to end this story soon because I have a lot of ideas for other stories that I want to start. There will be one or two more chapters, maybe three, depending on how long it takes to wrap everything up._


	25. Legolaaaaas!

*Drumroll***** The Mysterious Masked Hunter** **wins the prize for the** **150**th** review**! **[:::] [:::] [:::](It's ice cream sandwiches.)

(And you're welcome, by the way. XD)** **Blueberrymuffins76:** **Yup, Thranduil is boss! And not to disappoint you, Elrond's not going to be evil. At least in this story... :]** **The Awesome Me:** **I like your username. B) That's a face wearing sunglasses, btw. I'm glad you like Sauron. He's really fun, although he's getting ooc even for this story. :P** **LOTCR:** **Why, thank you! What's that, Thranduil? _I _have to help clean too? Nooooo!** ***stomps off muttering about how Sauron should keep his dumb tower cleaner*** Sixty-four K: **Thank you for TWO awesome reviews! I actually like tictacs... but I'd rather have chocolate...** **Dude:** **(Another awesome username) Thank you!** **Pip the Dark Lord of All:** **Yes, they are both creeps. :P Um, I'm not sure what will happen yet, but I don't think anyone will die. I WILL SAVE THEM! *rides off into sunset***** Lily Lindsey-Aubrey:** **Me too. That's my favourite line too – I'm glad you caught the reference! (Thrandy is turning a bit Ronan in this fic. O.O)** **Rousdower:** **Yeah, poor Feren. *has immense guilt trip over dousing Feren*

Thanks, everybody! Just a few more chapters to go! (Maybe two.)

* * *

**Chapter 25. Legolaaaaaaas! You're Better Than Uuuuuus!**

_(For no reason except that song is cool)_

Elrond looked at the ring in his hand incredulously. He was actually holding the ring of power. He was invincible.

"No!" Elrond clenched his hand over the ring. He was not going to let it corrupt him like it had everyone else. He would resist it. But what to do with the cursed thing? Easy. He must take it at once to Mount Doom and chuck it in.

He glanced out the window at Mount Doom, still smouldering dangerously and spouting smoke and lava at frequent intervals. Maybe not so easy after all.

* * *

Rumil filled another water balloon with paint and tied it shut.

"Whoa, dude, watch this, man!" shouted Orophin. Rumil looked up just in time to see an elven trooper get smacked in the face with a splat of yellow paint. He snickered and lobbed his balloon at a ducking elf gunner.

Unfortunately it hit Orophin instead.

"Whoa, man," said Orophin, groggily scraping red paint off his eyelids.

"Hey, I'm sorry, dude, I really am," said Rumil, who couldn't stifle a giggle in spite of himself.

"Hey, what happened to peace and love?" demanded Orophin. He picked up a green balloon and threw it hard, clocking Rumil on his ear as he attempted to dodge it.

"Watch it, dude!" shouted Rumil, beginning to get angry. He could feel green paint trickling slowly out of his ear, and green happened to be his least favourite colour. "Hey, your shirt's ugly. Try some purple on it," he suggested as he hurled a purple-hued missile. Orophin had always been a little twerp.

"Hey, I liked this shirt! And I hate purple! I'm not gonna be part of your commune anymore!"

An orange balloon landed on Rumil's trousers, mixing with the orange stripes that were already there and blending in rather well.

"Fine! Start your own commune! I always hated your organic brussels sprouts anyway!"

Rumil wound up his arm and flung a blue-paint-filled balloon straight at Orophin's head. Unfortunately (in case you haven't already noticed), his aim was not the best and the balloon flew over Orophin and landed with a smack in the face of Glorfindel.

Both hippie elves stopped lobbing balloons and stared at Glorfindel, now covered in blue paint and looking like Mel Gibson from Braveheart (except with blond hair).

"Uhhhhhh..." said Orophin.

Behind Glorfindel stood a large band of extremely fierce-looking orcs all brandishing terrifying and painful-looking weapons. Most of the orcs wore war paint, but as soon as they saw what had happened all the orcs without war paint rushed for paint-filled water balloons and started splattering themselves with bright colours.

"What's going on?" asked Glorfindel as soon as the paint had dribbled away from his mouth enough to make it safe for him to open it.

"Uuhhhhhhhhhhh..." said Rumil.

"We were just having some fun," said Orophin sulkily.

"Thranduil called me in to break up a protest," said Glorfindel. "So we can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. The easy way is you take your signs and go back to your commune. And stay there. The hard way is I take those tanks and start running you over with them."

"Uhhh, what's so hard about that?" asked Orophin.

"The hard part is trying to run over fleeing elves with slow, difficult-to-manoeuvre tanks," explained Glorfindel patiently. "But I will do it if you force me to extremes." He shook a finger at the impassive elves to drive home his point.

"SINCE WHEN DID GLORFINDEL ABANDON ELROND FOR THRANDUIL?" boomed a voice from above.

Glorfindel looked up in surprise. Was that _Gandalf_? On an _eagle_?

* * *

Erestor stretched his arm out, trying to reach the tip of the right-hand spike of Barad-dur. Thranduil would be sure to do a thorough inspection and he didn't want to be caught on the elvenking's bad side, but cleaning the roof of a three-hundred-storey tower (or however many storeys it had; he'd never bothered counting) was an unpleasant task even in the best of weather and with the best of heads for heights. Erestor resisted a morbid urge to glance over his shoulder at the landscape thousands of feet below.

Suddenly something large and feathery flew over his head with a whoosh and, with a second whoosh, something dropped to the roof of the tower shouting "Hi! Avast!"

Erestor nearly toppled from his step ladder to his death.

"Legolas?"

"Erestor?" said Legolas. "You started working for Sauron?"

"Shh, I'm an undercover agent," explained Erestor. "This job is just a cover for my true purpose in being here: namely, to bring about the downfall of the evil dark lord. And anyway, right now I'm working for Thranduil. He's taken over."

"What? DAD'S HERE?" gasped Legolas.

"And by the way, how did you just drop out of the sky like that?" asked Erestor, thinking this a feat beyond even Legolas's impressive skills.

"I jumped off an eagle," explained Legolas airily, quickly recovering from his surprise at his father's proximity. "We needed someone to get into the tower and unlock the door from the inside and the rest of the fellowship nominated me for the job, seeing I'm the most adept at defying the laws of physics."

Erestor shrugged. "You didn't have to do that. The door's already unlocked."

"But what about all those tanks?"

"They're your dad's."

"Oh." Legolas looked disappointed. "Oh well, I guess I'd better let the others know." He turned and waved to an eagle circling nearby. It approached with Aragorn on its back.

"Legolas!" called Aragorn. "Is the coast clear?"

"Yes," said Legolas. "Let the others know. I'm going to find Gimli and rescue him."

"I'll come with you," said Aragorn.

"No! Don't - you'll never make it!" gasped Legolas. But Aragorn had already tried to jump onto the roof of the tower, lost his balance, and slid off the edge. His death scream was cut short by Erestor grabbing his cloak and hauling him to safety.

"Thanks," said Aragorn. "You're handy to have around. Now why couldn't Legolas have done that when I fell off that cliff?" He shot an accusing look at Legolas.

Legolas turned as if he hadn't heard and opened the trap door of the tower. "Better let me go first," he said. "I shall scout out the area and make sure it's safe."

"What do your elf eyes see?" whispered Aragorn.

Legolas's elf eyes grew wide as he peered into the room below.

It's my dad," he whispered. "You go first."

* * *

Gandalf leaped from the back of his eagle and confronted Glorfindel.

"I was just breaking up this protest," said Glorfindel awkwardly. "You can see they were threatening the elvenking's troops."

"What? These are Thranduil's troops?" said Gandalf. "Then we'd better get into the tower quickly. Sauron may be evil, but even I don't hate him enough to let him remain a prisoner of Thranduil's for any length of time."

He ducked as a water balloon flew past, flung by a disgruntled orc.

The water balloon continued on its course and hit Elrond, who had just emerged from the tower, painting his sleeve purple.

"Gandalf!" said Elrond, recovering quickly from the unexpected missile. "Just the person I need!"

"I'm busy," said Gandalf grumpily.

Elrond rushed up to him, coming so close he got purple paint on Gandalf's robe. "I've got it," he hissed, shoving his fist in Gandalf's face. "I've got the ring!"

Gandalf stared at him in unbelief. "Show me," he said.

Elrond opened his fingers a crack, with a worried glance at the tower behind him. "We must take it to the mountain before he finds out it's missing," he said.

"Frodo!" said Gandalf. "Come here. I've got a little job for you."

"Gandalf..." began Merry.

"Do you really think _Frodo_ should..." continued Pippin.

"Of course I do!" said Gandalf impatiently. "He's the ringbearer, isn't he?" He took the ring from Elrond and handed it to Frodo. "Now take it to Mount Doom," he instructed severely. "And this time, throw it in!"

Nobody had the guts to protest. They all knew Gandalf had never lived down Frodo's earlier failure.

"Fine!" said Eowyn, brushing past Elrond. "But I'm still going to go into that tower and give Sauron a piece of my mind!"

"You do that," said Gandalf. He turned to Elrond. "We've got to distract him until Frodo has time to get to Mount Doom," he whispered.

"Distract him?" said Elrond. "Hmm, I may have an idea..."

* * *

__"Where is it? Where is it, precious?"_ _Sauron hissed to himself as he searched feverishly through his sock drawer. He only had one hiding place for the ring of power. How could it not be there?

Unless...

He turned and headed for the bathroom, bumping into Thranduil at the doorway. Thranduil was on his tour of inspection, making sure the tower was fabulously clean. He brushed himself off as Sauron stumbled back and turned a disapproving eye on Sauron's bedroom.

"There are socks on the floor," he said. "LINDIR!"

Lindir scurried out from somewhere behind him. "Y-y-y-yes, sire?"

"Pick up those socks." Thranduil shot a withering glance of scorn at Sauron. "_Really_. Aren't you old enough to pick up after yourself?"

Sauron withered.

"Sorry, your majesty."

This was horrible. His life was horrible. Bowing and scraping to a measly _elf_? Whatever would Melkor have said if he could have found out about it? Sauron's shoulders slumped. He needed his ring. That would make him feel better.

Elrond appeared in the doorway.

"Sauron," said Elrond, not even bothering to call him "your lordship."

"What?"

"I'm not happy about Arwen."

"So?" Sauron grumped. What made Elrond think _he_ cared?

"I've just had a look at her facebook account and she's been doing entirely too much shopping and wasting time with her immature friends. Not to mention she's posted her status as in a relationship with no less than seven people in the last month, (all of whom have hotly denied it, by the way). It is my opinion that she needs to be more closely monitored."

"Great, you should do that," said Sauron, thanking his stars for the hundredth time that he wasn't a parent. Why was Elrond bothering him with his problems anyway? As if Sauron didn't have enough problems of his own! He was a prisoner in his own tower, for goodness sake. Things couldn't possibly be worse.

"Thank you," said Elrond with a smile, "I knew you'd agree. And I knew you wouldn't mind, either."

"Mind what?"

Elrond had to repeat himself before Sauron believed his ears.

"WHAT? Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"

It is said that when Morgoth was caught in the toils of the enormous spider Ungoliant, he let loose a shriek so loud that it shook the mountains and split rocks asunder, and that the echoes of that cry dwelt in that land ever after. But that cry was nothing to the terrible cry - a shriek of woeful and utter despair - that Sauron shrieked upon hearing Elrond's news. Elrond was bringing Arwen to stay in Barad-dur.


	26. Revenge of the Hobbit

**Wunderkind4006: **Thank you! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. Yes, it must end because it's already super long and I'm running out of stuff to make happen. :P **Ranger's Scop: **My sentiments exactly. **Sixty-Four K: **Yes, Legolas is, isn't he? :P And Elrond wasn't corrupted by the ring when Isildur had it, so he probably wouldn't be if he actually got hold of it himself, right? Anyway, that would have made the story too complicated. XD **LOTCR: **Sauron's socks probably have little skulls on them. Or maybe rings. XD **Lily Lindsey-Aubrey: **Don't worry, no one will die. Even if it may look a bit like someone does at the end of this chapter...

* * *

**Chapter 26: Revenge of the Hobbit**

Arwen hated having to stay in Barad-dur. I mean really, what normal girl had to live in a creepy tower with her dad AND her grandparents? The boredom was torture—she'd already been in this horrible place for three hours and she didn't know how much longer she could take it without going insane.

It wouldn't have been so bad if she'd had Erestor or Lindir to talk to, but they always fled precipitately whenever she walked into the room. Hmm, she'd heard Thranduil tell Lindir to clean Sauron's room. Maybe she could corner him there.

Arwen danced lightly up the steps humming a carefree tune. She reached the dark lord's bedroom and stopped, staring at the mess. Socks strewed the floor, black robes were thrown around the room in random disorder, and in the middle of the bed, wrapped up to his ears in a king-size blanket, sat the dark lord himself, nibbling a chocolate bar.

"What happened?" asked Arwen.

"Nothing," Sauron growled. "I was just looking for my ring."

"Did you find it?"

"No, I didn't. So then I really needed cheering up so I started looking for my secret chocolate stash."

"I like chocolate!" said Arwen, her eyes lighting up.

"Well, too bad because I'm not sharing."

Arwen pouted.

"Where's Lindir?" she asked.

"I made him leave. What do you want him for?"

"Oh...nothing," said Arwen awkwardly. She looked at the Dark Lord, bundled up in his comforter. He was kind of cute, actually... and a Dark Lord sure beat a common minstrel...

"Sauron," said Arwen, batting her eyelashes, "do you know you have many of the qualities I've always looked for in a man?"

"Nice try, but I'm still not sharing my chocolate," said Sauron.

"Who said anything about chocolate? I need to get married."

Sauron choked on his chocolate bar. "MARRIED?" His face blanched and he started to tremble. Was this elleth actually... _hitting_ on him? _Quick, think of something fast. Get her out of the room and hide..._

There was a loud bang as the door slammed against the wall. Sauron turned to see Eowyn stalking into the room. With a strangled squeak he pulled the blanket over his head.

"What do you want?" asked Arwen.

"Outta my way," said Eowyn. "I've come to teach that creep who's boss here. Where's the ring?"

"You're scaring him," said Arwen. "And no wonder. Ew, what are you wearing? Do you call that fashion? It's so pre-teen."

"Shut up. It's cool. You're just jealous."

"I'm not jealous!"

Sauron poked his head out from under the covers. As scary as Eowyn and Arwen were separately, it was interesting to watch them fight. Sauron found himself placing mental bets on who would come out on top. ...Until he remembered that either outcome was bad news for him. He started pulling his head back under the covers but stopped as the Witch King slithered in.

"He's after me again!" gasped the Witch King. "Please just tell them all to leave me alone!"

Moved with pity for his ill-fated minion, Sauron made a feeble effort to help him out. "Who's after you?" he asked.

He'd no sooner asked it when Eomer burst into the room. He would have banged the door if Eowyn hadn't already banged it back as far as it could go.

"Where is -" Eomer began, but cut himself short as he caught sight of Eowyn. "There you are at last!" he shouted. "I've been looking everywhere for you! My darling sister! I was so worried!"

Sauron made a face as Eomer flung himself at Eowyn. But his horror was turned to pleasure as he watched Eomer turn Eowyn over his knee and give her a sound spanking.

"I TOLD you not to fight in the battle!" said Eomer. "Now look at all the trouble you've caused me."

"OW STOP IT!" screamed Eowyn.

Sauron covered his ears with the pillow.

* * *

Thranduil had finished his inspection and was heading back downstairs. Behind him, at a discreet distance, Aragorn and Legolas followed, treading carefully lest the elvenking be alerted to their presence.

"I don't understand," said Aragorn. "Why do we care if he finds out we're here?"

"He might punish me for not coming when he told me to," whispered Legolas. "Besides, I'm trying to rescue Gimli. He wouldn't understand that and he wouldn't like it."

"Oh he wouldn't, would he?" came a voice from behind them.

They both spun around to confront Gimli himself.

"Gimli!" exclaimed Legolas. "You're still alive!" He ran forward to embrace his friend and narrowly missed decapitation by a blow from Gimli's axe. Fortunately (being Legolas) he ducked just in time and the axe hit the wall instead.

"Not so fast!" said Gimli. "Traitor elf scum!"

"Wha-" began Legolas.

"Prepare to die, vermin!"

"What did I do?" gasped Legolas, nearly fainting from surprise.

"What did you do?" repeated Gimli. "Just tricked me into coming on a silly quest with you. Just let that witch work her wiles on my innocent and naive mind. Just pretended to be my friend after calling me names. And a whole lot of other things I can't remember right now. You can ask the Mouth of Sauron to fill you in on particulars."

"You believed him? But he's evil—of course he's lying."

"Never trust an elf," said Gimli darkly.

"I—I can't believe it," said Legolas, breaking down into tears. "I came all this way to rescue you and you—call me names!"

"Gimli, look at this from a reasonable angle," said Aragorn, realising it was up to his cool head to save the day. "First, Legolas couldn't have tricked you into coming on the quest because you were enemies then. Secondly, he's never been as huge a fan of Galadriel as you were. Thirdly, he called you names long ago before he'd had a chance to meet you and find out how nice you really were. So if you'd please stop being emotional-"

"_Emotional?_" shouted Gimli. "I NEVER GET EMOTIONAL. I AM AS COOL AS A CUCUMBER!"

"Then why are you shouting at meeeeee?" sobbed Legolas.

"Don't act all innocent! I trusted you and you LIED to me!"

"Look, can we talk about this later?" asked Aragorn.

"Ha!" said Gimli in a sinister tone. "I have waited for my revenge long enough. This. Ends. Here." He began to swing his axe in a circle until it whistled.

"Gimli, wait—I can explain..." began Legolas.

He was cut short by a roar of rage from Gimli who chose that precise moment to raise his axe over his head and rush at them with murderous intent. Elf and ranger discreetly fled down the corridor, deciding to reason with Gimli when a considerable distance of time and space had elapsed between them.

They were running past Sauron's bedroom when Arwen burst out and nearly ran head first into Aragorn.

"My love!" she exclaimed. "At last!"

"Sorry, can't talk now-" began Aragorn.

"Why not? And where have you been all this time?"

"Later, sweetieeeee!" shouted Aragorn over his shoulder as he kept running.

* * *

In Sauron's bedroom Eowyn was still shrieking in pain as Eomer paddled her soundly.

"Now you know this hurts us as much as it does you, Eowyn," said the Witch King, who was enjoying it. "But you know you must learn your lesson. Your brother can't just let you go off fighting and killing people when you were told not to, you know."

"I can get you a wooden spoon in case your hand is starting to hurt," said the Mouth helpfully to Eomer.

"What are you doing?" gasped Faramir, coming into the room just then and looking horrified.

"HEEEEEELLLLLLPPPPP!" screamed Eowyn.

Faramir blinked.

"I'lllll saaaaave youuuuu!" cried a thin, rasping little voice as dead!Grima leaped on Eomer.

"No! I will!" Faramir cried as he leaped on dead!Grima.

The Mouth and the Witch King cheered as dead!Hama, Theoden, and Theodred appeared and pitched in to help Eomer out. Sauron put earplugs into his ears.

* * *

"Do you think he's still following us?" whispered Aragorn from behind the potted plant where he was hiding.

"I don't know," Legolas replied. "I just can't believe he'd do that to me. He tried to kill me—he...he..." Legolas broke off in sniffles.

"Hush!" said Aragorn. He jumped as a splotch of paint landed on his ear. Glancing up he saw Lady Galadriel on a scaffold painting the wall overhead a weird shade of mint green.

"Lindir!" shouted Galadriel. "Where are you? I need you to move the scaffold again."

"Do you require assistance?" asked Aragorn politely.

Galadriel looked down at him, screamed, and lost her balance. With a great deal of pain and effort, Aragorn caught her (after which he never again used the word _light _in conjunction with her name).

"Oh, my heroes!" she gasped. "I knew you'd come to rescue me someday! I knew my pleas would not fall upon deaf ears!"

"They will be deaf if you don't stop that shouting," said Aragorn, forgetting to be polite.

"Tut, you sound like Gandalf," said Galadriel, bopping him on the nose. "Now take me downstairs, please. I'd like to get away from here as soon as possible."

"Why didn't you just leave sooner then?" asked Legolas. "The door wasn't locked."

"Because I was waiting for someone to rescue me, of course!" said Galadriel.

* * *

Merry and Pippin peered into the kitchen. The tower of Barad-dur was an interesting place to explore they both thought. They'd already made several exciting discoveries, such as the king-sized water bed and cable television. But the kitchen was naturally the prime subject of interest, especially as a delightful smell was wafting out of it.

They saw two orcs hard at work at a butcher's block at the counter, attempting to slice something that looked vaguely like a large banana.

"What are you doing?" asked Pippin.

"The shredded cheese got stuck together in the freezer," said one of the orcs. "We can't get it in small enough pieces to go on the pizza."

"Pizza?" said Merry. "Where?"

"Can we help?" asked Pippin more diplomatically.

"Sure. You can chop up the mushrooms over there in the sink."

Merry and Pippin looked at each other with wide eyes. "MUSHROOMS!" they squealed as they raced for the sink.

* * *

Legolas and Aragorn were toting Galadriel ponderously towards the elevator (she insisted on being carried because she said it was proper when being rescued) when Arwen stepped into the corridor and barred their way.

"Aragorn," she said, her eyes shooting sparks, "tell me what is going on RIGHT NOW."

"Sweetheart," began Aragorn.

"I want to know where you've been for the past year, where is the throne of Gondor which you promised me, why I'm still single and shut up in this stupid tower with my dad, and why you're carrying grandma around like you're rescuing her or something."

"Well, as a matter of fact, dear-"

"Rescuing HER instead of ME. Explain that, _ranger_."

"Well..."

"Ahem," said a voice. Celeborn had just appeared behind Arwen.

"Young man," said Celeborn sternly, "that is my wife."

"Here, take her," said Aragorn eagerly.

"We need to get to the elevator," said Legolas. "Before-"

But it was too late. Even as he spoke they heard an angry clatter and Gimli appeared around the corner, charging straight for them.

"Aha! At last I have you!" exclaimed Gimli unoriginally.

Aragorn and Legolas shrieked in terror. Their path to the elevator was blocked by Arwen and Celeborn, not to mention they both knew it would be impossible to elude Gimli while toting Lady Galadriel. With pounding pulses they awaited the dreaded blow.

But just at that moment Galadriel jumped from Aragorn's aching arms and rushed upon Gimli. The other elves and ranger stared, impressed by her bravery. Galadriel was pretty intimidating, but after all, she was unarmed and Gimli had a range of axes and possibly knives concealed about his person.

Gimli's eyes grew wide and he took a step back, holding up his axe defensively.

"Come no nearer, witch!" he cried. "I am no longer spell-bound by your wiles."

"Oh, Gimli, you sweet angel!" exclaimed Galadriel. "I _knew_ you'd come to rescue me! 3 3 3"

* * *

Mount Doom belched out black fumes as Frodo and Sam toiled up its side, struggling to reach the gate that led into the mountain. Sam was experiencing a strong sense of deja vous as he glanced back at Frodo to make sure he was still following. Frodo was walking as if in his sleep, fingering the ring and muttering.

They entered the sweltering volcano and started down the narrow bridge that led straight to the very centre.

"This is it, Mr. Frodo," said Sam. "Your big moment. Don't screw it up this time."

Frodo was still muttering.

"After all, why shouldn't I keep it? It's mine, it came to me!"

Sam was growing nervous. "Hurry up!" he said.

Suddenly a small translucent form sprang from the shadows and tried to seize the ring. Frodo screamed as it lunged at him.

"My preciousssss!" shrieked dead!Gollum.

Sam dashed forward but before he could intervene, Frodo flung him aside and strangled dead!Gollum with the force.

"Good work, now get rid of it, quick!" shouted Sam.

Frodo staggered back and forth panting, as he grasped the ring tightly.

"Go on," urged Sam. "Throw it into the fire!"

Slowly Frodo regained his balance, then turned and looked up at Sam with an evil glint in his eye.

"No," he said.

Sam stared, surprised by the look of evil on Frodo's face.

"If you won't, I will!" he threatened.

Frodo grinned maniacally. "You will not take it from me!" he shouted, throwing off his cloak.

"Your anger and your lust for power have already done that!" replied Sam, throwing of his cloak and igniting his lightsaber. "You have allowed the Dark Side to twist your mind until now... now you're trying to save the very thing you swore to destroy."

"I do not fear the Dark Side as you do," said Frodo, the waves of heat emitted by the boiling lava whipping his hair as he spoke. "I have brought peace, justice, freedom, and security to my new empire."

"Your new empire?" asked Sam incredulously.

"Don't make me kill you," said Frodo, whipping out his lightsaber.

"I will do what I must," Sam replied.

"You will try," smirked Frodo.

The two hobbits rushed at each other and began to battle epically above the lava, using the force to fling inanimate objects at each other until both were black and blue. At last Sam forced Frodo out onto the very end of the ledge, pressing him further and further toward the lava below.

"It's over, Frodo!" shouted Sam above the roar of the volcano. "I have the high ground."

"You underestimate my power!" shrieked Frodo. With one hand he waved the ring in the air.

Sam gasped. "Don't try it!"

But it was too late. With a smirk, Frodo slipped the ring onto his finger and the next instant vanished. At the same instant Sam felt a rush of air as Frodo jedi-flipped over his head, but Sam's jedi instincts were unerring and with a quick flick of his wrist he jerked his lightsaber upwards.

There was a despairing scream and Frodo appeared again with an arm and both legs chopped off. He plunged towards the lava, but managed to catch hold of the edge of the stone ledge, where he hung by one hand, writhing in the waves of searing heat.

Sam stepped back, horrified.

"You were the Chosen One!" he shouted. "You were supposed to destroy the ring, not keep it!"

"I hate you!" screamed Frodo.

"I was your gardener, Mr. Frodo," said Sam sentimentally. "I loved you."

Blowing his nose on his handkerchief, he turned away and made his way out of the mountain, pursued by Frodo's haunting screams.

* * *

_I love the Mustafar battle scene! Now I need to go watch it again. Yissss._

_Btw, there's a great Youtube video of that scene mixed with Gandalf on the bridge of Khazad-dum. And there's another with the same scene mixed with Frodo getting his finger bitten off and falling into the lava. I based this scene heavily off of that video, actually._

_And I wonder why it is that it's so easy to cross LotR with Star Wars?_

_News flash: Just an epilogue left and then this story is OVER!_


	27. Epilogue

Final chapter! Sorry it's a bit short and abrupt.

Thanks to my wonderful reviewers for sticking with this story for so long!

**Ranger's Scop: **Everyone needs a useful blanket to hide under sometimes. :P **Pip the Dark Lord of All: **Everyone's been singing that song lately, so I decided to be trendy and put it in my story. Yes, you are already cracked up. XD Glad you enjoyed the crossover. I keep thinking of lines I forgot to put in. Curse you, brain! **Tommyginger: **Glad you liked it. O.o No, I'm not trying to imply anything like that. I like movie!Eowyn, but I always felt like book!Eowyn needed a spanking, so I made her big brother give her one (she DID disobey him, after all). **Wunderkind4006: **YES! The piano guys Cello Wars is AWESOME! It's probably only second to their Mission: Impossible theme on my favourites list. And yes, those videos are great, you need to watch them. XD **LOTCR: **Nope, Frodo's not dead (see below). And Sauron will survive too, I'm sure. XD **Guest: **Yes, everyone is TOTALLY out of character in this story. That was partially intentional. XD Actually, your's is the first negative review I've gotten so far, but thanks for your honest opinion.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Sauron pressed a button and the dental chair slowly moved to the upright position. Frodo, seated in it, stared groggily at his new robotic appendages.

"How do you feel?" asked Sauron anxiously. "I hope they're a good fit."

"Where is the ring?" asked Frodo. "Is it - safe?"

Sauron spoke hesitantly. "I'm afraid in your carelessness you lost it."

"What?" cried Frodo in despair. "Nooooooo!"

* * *

The fellowship sat around the dining table in Barad-dur eating pizza and celebrating their victory over the Dark Lord.

"I should have given the ring to you all along, Sam," said Gandalf. "I ought to have known Frodo would be corrupted by it. You, on the other hand, were the only one of us who was immune to its evil influence."

"Yes, well..." said Sam awkwardly. "I couldn't see what was so special about a little ring and all. I mean, it's only a piece of jewellery. What good would destroying it do? Anyhow, I thought it might come in handy sometime."

He put his hand in his pocket and held up a small round object.

Everyone gasped.

"SAM!" thundered Gandalf. "You _didn't_! You - you - KEPT it?"

"Well yes," said Sam. "Why not, after all? It's pretty. It's my-"

"PRECIOUSSSSSS!" shrieked doublydead!Gollum, tackling him.

* * *

"Do not alarm yourself," Sauron continued. "The fact that Mount Doom hasn't exploded, destroying this tower and most of Mordor gives me reason to suspect that the ring was not destroyed. It may still be out there, and if it is, you and I shall find it. You shall be my new apprentice."

Sauron waved his arms dramatically. "_Once more the dark powers shall rule Middle Earth!_"

* * *

THE END


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